Girl Wonder
by snottie
Summary: Joker kidnapped&tortured Batman,&Robin. Nightwing&Red Hood rescue them, but not after the damage has already been done. Joker knows Batman's secret ID,&he's gotten Robin addicted to a pleasure enhancing drug. Bruce is left in critical condition. Dick stays to play Batman, Jason stays to kill the Joker,&Carrie is in the middle of a decade long feud. cw:rape, abuse&addiction.
1. Sniffing For Clues

Robin frowns as she crouches on a roof top. She switches her sight to night vision and scans the alley below. Paint is splashed everywhere, "HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!" written all across the alley floor and brick walls on either side. This is the fifth clue she's found now. The Joker has been leaving them throughout Gotham for her to find; a grotesque scavenger hunt. He's kidnapped Batman. It's been three days since she saw him last – she doesn't even know if he's still alive...what would be the point in letting him live? Why did the Joker kidnap him, if it isn't to murder him? Surely, he's been unmasked by now, and if he hasn't it's only a matter of time until he is; until the Joker discovers he is Bruce Wayne. She has to find him. She has to save him.

Standing, she withdraws her grappling hook from her waist belt and shoots it across the gap in the alley, it embeds itself into the brick on the adjacent building. She gives it a few hard yanks to test it before jumping expertly from the roof, landing with a splash in a puddle of paint. This close, she can see how it pools together, swirling together in a muddy brown. She swears, hoping she'll be able to scrub it off her boots later.

Examining the alley, she flashes her light on the walls and floor – trying to find the clue Joker had left; the next step in finding Batman. Bright colors are splattered everywhere; on everything, like some kind of Avant Garde painting for the criminally insane. The only thing that doesn't have paint on it is the large dumpster in the back of the alley. That has to be it. Slowly her staff from it's holster, she clicks the release button, extending it on either side. She spins it out of habit as she heads toward the bin cautiously. Her boots squelch in the paint, tracking colorful footsteps towards the end of the alley.

Her heart thunders in her chest she approaches the trash. Without hesitation she throws open metal door to the bin. It crashes against the the brick wall it stands against, the sound reverberating through the alley – almost masking a faint hissing. Gas shoots into the air. Carrie simultaneously shields her face with her cape and launches herself backwards away from the gas. She can only presume it's the Joker's signature laughing gas.

She waits a moment for the gas to disperse before approaching again, her cape still covering her nose and mouth. As she gets closer she's hit with a distinct smell, utterly recognizable: rotting flesh. Inside, strewn across black shining trash bags, lay a body. Panic strikes through her as her gaze falls upon the corpse. It's Batman. Her breath quickens, and tears well in her eyes as she takes in the sight before her. His eyes are wide, the same deep brown she finds herself getting lost in while he lectures her about what it means to be a hero; what it takes to protect a city like Gotham. Robin puts a hand on the lip of the container to steady herself. Her entire body shakes as she reaches in and grabs the top of the cowl, pulling it from his head. A strangled sob gurgles from her as she sees his face. It isn't him. Relief washes over her as the tears roll down her cheeks and her legs give out. She leans heavily against the trash bin, staring down at the unfamiliar man.

Robin pulls out her light and shines it in the corpse's face. His features are contorted in a sickening grin. A piece of black fabric protrudes from between his teeth. "Yuck." Robin sighs and drops her cape. She puts the pen light between her teeth and reaches in the bin with her gloved hands. Taking hold of the fabric with one hand, she pries the grinning mouth open with the other. She gags as the smell emerges from his mouth in a noxious cloud. The fabric is made of a familiar material, and as she pulls it from the corpse hand-over-hand she knows exactly what it is. Batman's cape. The fabric squelches as she pulls it free, making her stomach roll nauseously. Once the entire cape is out she flashes her light into the hole and heaves. The cape hadn't been shoved down his throat, it had been pushed up into his cranium – the insides of his skull looked like mush. Brain, blood, and bones all churned up together.

She takes a step back – several, in fact, until she is far enough away from the body to take a shuddering breath and not smell the stench of rotting corpse and hot, festering trash. Her gloves are now covered in blood and small chunks of skull. She tries not to think about it (or about how the Joker had gotten the cape in there) as she holds its up. In bright, dripping purple numbers was the next clue.

0 8 0 1

Of course. She curses as the overwhelming feeling of idiocy falls upon her. Where else would he be?


	2. Live Stream

Robin taps a few commands into Batman's computer; keys clacking under her gloved fingers. There are eight large screens towering over Bruce's desk. Which is positioned on a naturally forming plateau, jutting out into the underground lake that takes up fraction of the Batcave. The two monitors immediately in front of her scroll through different information from the previous clues she had left open on the screen; shots from the previous crime scenes, a scan of a note with a riddle scrawled in blood. The Joker's clues were sick, and twisted – and they make her feel queasy looking at them again. On the left, everything Batman has on the Joker – which she's already read ten times over since he'd been taken. On the right, a catalog of weapons at her disposal. From batterangs to bombs. The rest of the screens stream live video from inside Arkham Asylum. There is a single blank video feed. Room 0801. The camera for the Joker's padded cell was turned off. Was Batman in there? "Bruce..." She exhales his name, her eyes stinging with tears.

She nearly jumps out of her skin as she feels a hand on her shoulder - she spins quickly, crouching into a defensive stance only to drop her fists immediately as her gaze falls upon Alfred. He doesn't mask the worry on his face like Bruce always does; it's clear as day – written into the wrinkles in his skin. Her heart twinges in shame, pain radiating through her chest. "Miss Carrie." The tone of his voice rings clear with concern.

"Not now, Alfred," She angrily yanks her glasses from her eyes. Tossing them on the desk as she turns back to the bright monitors. "I need to find him."

Alfred sets a tray next to her, heaping with food. "You _need_ to eat. You haven't eaten since yesterday, and you haven't slept since he disappeared."

"He hasn't disappeared, Alfred, the Joker _took_ him. I don't know how, but he did." She jabs her hand behind her without turning her head. Batman's cape hangs outstretched on the evidence board she set up. "He's been taunting me with clues for days." She sighs, looking up at Alfred with tired eyes. "He's dangling Bruce in front of me like a piece of cheese, making me run through a crazy, elaborate maze to find him, and at every turn is another trap – another clue." Carrie looks away from Alfred's worried face and down to the food. The idea of eating making her stomach churn. "I'm not hungry."

"At least drink your tea, Miss Carrie." With that, he leaves.

Because she knows that it'll help, she drinks it. The warmth soothes her stomach and makes her feel better. It's prepared exactly the way she likes it, which has her heart aching again. Ever since she came to the sprawling grounds of Wayne Manor, Alfred has shown her kindness she has never experienced before. He truly, honestly cares for her. Just like he cares about Bruce.

With her tea in hand she turns from the monitors to look around the cave. Her gaze falls upon the glass tubes Bruce uses to display the costumes that had come before her. The Robins that had come before her. Dick, Tim, Jason...Damien. It hurts looking at Damien's costume, knowing what happened to him...is she going to end up a grave in the Wayne cemetery, too? Who will replace her once she dies? ...As long as there is a Batman, there will always be a Robin. Right now...without Robin – without _her_ – there would be no more Batman.

It's time to get to work. As her eyes are drawn to the monitors once again she notices the black screen had come alive while she wasn't looking. On the screen is the Joker. He sits in a high-backed chair with a wine glass in his hand. From what she can see he's alone.

Anger spears through her as she watches him drink from the glass. He has a deck of cards splayed out on the glass-topped table in front of him. He arranges them from ace to king: heart, club, spade, diamond. "What are you up to?" She asks herself, staring at him through the camera's lens.

For several moments this is all he does. Once they are all in order he sits back in his chair and finishes his glass. He sets it down on the table and stands, staring down at what he had done. With an abrupt movement, he reaches down and grabs hold of the table – flipping it in one quick motion. The table top and wine glass shatter as the cards fly in every direction. When she looks up from the heap of glass on the floor back to his face, he's staring directly into the camera.

"I take it you found my message." He giggles and waves at her with a gloved hand. His smile twists as he steps closer to the camera, still looking directly into it. "I am surprised! I expected you to take much longer than this, but you – oh you! - you're so smart. Look at you." He barks with laughter, putting a hand to his stomach and letting his head fall back. His green hair is slicked back into an elegant pony tail that falls over his shoulder. He stops laughing and looks back up at the camera. "Do you want to see Batsy, girl wonder?" His tone mocks her. "Do you miss him, so? Are you terribly afraid of what I have done to your hero?" He cackles.

He turns away from the camera, stepping over the pile of glass. He shoves his chair out of the way and it tips to the side, falling over with a clatter. With long, fluid strides he makes his way to a set of double doors behind where he'd been seated. He throws them open with a flourish and steps aside, extending an arm of welcome. A nurse made up with clown make up, grinning widely pushes a blanketed gurney into the room. Someone is under the blanket struggling. Batman? The Joker takes the blanket in his fists and pulls it from the gurney – revealing Bruce Wayne. He is naked, bloody, and bruised. But he's alive.

"You can guess my astonishment when I pulled the mask off Batsy here." He pats Bruce's cheek, grinning down at him. The Joker puts his hands on either side of Bruce's face and points it towards the camera, leaning in and resting his chin down on his forehead. "Look at the camera, Brucey," He says, "Say hi to your little dove." When Bruce doesn't speak, the nurse takes a scalpel and stabs down into the back of his hand. His eyes widen, and he grunts in pain – bearing his teeth. "Don't be rude now! She's been searching everywhere for you! Tell her you're okay, Brucey, come now – she's been trying so hard."

Carrie's breath hitches as Bruce looks directly into the camera. He still doesn't speak, which causes the nurse to twist the scalpel in his skin. He hisses through his teeth. "Say something!" The Joker yells, clearly getting impatient.

"Something." Bruce grunts.

That brings a small, sad smile to Carrie's lips. He's okay.

The Joker steps around the gurney, pushing it roughly aside so it spins, and crashes into the wall. He looks back up at the camera and grins, "You have two hours."


	3. Flash Back

Her heart thunders in her chest as the screen goes black. Without another thought she springs into action. Bruce is alive. She still has time to save him. She's going to save Batman. Again.

Of course this isn't the first time, or even the third time that she had saved Batman's life. Including the day she met him; a broken arm and blood pouring out of his pummeled face. She set his bone in back of the Batmobile while Alfred drove it remotely. And that was it, she was Robin. Together they had taken down the Mutant Gang and stopped them from starting a war with the innocent people of Gotham. Together they'd stopped Joker from killing everyone at the Carnival. However, in the end he escaped, like he always does. Bruce blamed himself.

They'd been tracking him since it had happened. At first? Nothing. Not a trace, not a whisper from the Clown King of Gotham. At least not until...the most theatrical, over the top, Circus of a bank robbery Gotham had ever seen. It was the middle of the busiest time at Gotham First Bank, the line was out the door and the heat was sweltering. The Joker walked in wearing his new signature White-Blazer-on-White-Trousers. His tie was a poison shade of green, accented by Alligator leather boots in the same shade. His ruffled-front button-down was a rich shade of purple, making his skin look impossibly whiter. His signature grin adorns his face. All eyes were on him, the entire bank was silent. At that moment every person had the same thought: We're all going to die. They were right. Bruce blamed himself.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance. I should have killed him the first _fucking_ time I had a chance!" Carrie watched from the other side of the den, perched in the shadows while Old Bruce Wayne sits, drinking whiskey in a leather high back chair. It made her think of the Beast. Did that make her Beauty? She frowned at the thought, cursing herself for letting such a thing cross her mind. He finished the glass and stood to have another in the same abrupt motion. She adjusted to stay in the darkness, but that was what ended up giving her away. "Robin..." He never calls her by her name.

She emerged from the shadows and approached her Hero; her teacher. "Yes?" He locked her in his gaze over his shoulder. For a long while he stood at her like that, before turning back to the bar to pour his drink.

"You did very well tonight," He said without facing her. "I'm proud of the soldier you've become."

"I'm not fired?" She asked, referring to her disobedience earlier in the mission.

"What?" He turns to look at her, confused until the realization dawns on his face, "Oh! No, Robin you're not fired. You were very smart." He rubbed his hand across the stubble forming on his chin, "Without you, I daresay I wouldn't have made it back here in one piece." He took a long drag of whiskey before finally looking back at her. He's stunned by the expression on her face. "Is there...something bothering you, Robin?"

Carrie's lip quivered as she tried to muster the courage to speak her mind. After all, this was Bruce Wayne; Batman, standing in front of her. She balled her hands into fists and shook her head, "You – you never call me by my name." She looked into his face finally, fighting back tears.

"I-" He stopped with the glass of whiskey half way to his mouth. Lowering slowly, he straightened his back and looks her in the eye. "You're right, I'm apologize Ro-" She visibly tensed as his lips form _Robin_. "Carrie." He corrected, a strange feeling coming over him while he watched her relax at the sound of her name on his tongue. "I'm sorry, Carrie."

She shrugged her shoulders, a smile forcing her lips to part. "It's...it's okay. Thank you, Bruce."

"You're lovely when you smile."

But her smile fell from her lips just as quickly as it appeared, "Bruce..." She said softly, her breath catching in her throat as she gripped the front of her shirt. Clearly that hadn't been the only thing bothering her. "I...I can't unsee it." Her voice wavered, "I've never seen so much blood...the bodies-" Her eyes met his, fear, panic, sorrow – all reflecting what he felt inside as he looked upon her.

Bruce set down the glass. He crossed the room, stopping just in front of her – casting a shadow over her as long as Wayne Tower. "Come here, soldier." His voice was hoarse as he knelt - gathering her in his arms. He dwarfs her with his bulk. Bruce Wayne had aged into a brick wall of a man. Carrie felt safe there, cradled gently against his chest, his arms encircling her. Overwhelmed with emotion the tears fall freely as a sob shudders through her. He rubbed her back as she cried. "There, there," He cooed as he pulled her into his arms, holding her like a baby. "Let it out, that's right."

"I was just so scared!" She managed to sob, covering her face with her arms. "There were so many bodies...so many pieces..."

"I know," His tone deepens. The seriousness in his voice was unmistakable. "Tonight was frightening," He began, "The Joker set a record. This was big, even for him." He pushed her hair back away from her face to look into her eyes as he spoke. _What color are her eyes?_ He wondered, realizing he had never seen them without the green tinted lenses. He strokes his knuckle down her face, removing her glasses. Green. Without the filter they are deeper than he imagined. Like looking down at an aerial view of a Northern Forest. Dense foliage obscuring the side of a mountain, the peak disappearing in black thunder clouds. Her gaze pierces him like lightning and he stumbles on his thoughts. "You acted beautifully tonight," He found himself saying, "I'm proud to have you at my side." His voice is quiet as he caressed her cheek softly - rubbing his thumb against the apple under her eye. She'd totally relaxed in his arms so he scooped her up and carried her out of the room. "Stay here tonight if you're afraid." He whispered as he took her toward the stairs, ascending slowly.

His gaze wasn't on her, but that didn't mean he didn't have _her_ undivided attention. "Your fighting has improved. Every move you made tonight was executed perfectly. You ARE Robin. My _partner_. That is what I mean when I call you Robin. It's trust. It's love. It's family. You are part of this legacy now, Carrie, you are part of this family." He glanced at her from his peripheral and she looked away. His laugh rumbled through his broad chest, "No need to be embarrassed. I'm being honest."

"You're just...old fashioned. The way you talk, I mean," She shrugged, putting her glasses back on. Like a shield.

 _We can't keep this up..._ Bruce stiffened as he turned down the hallway from the stairs. The voice of Batman ringing in his ears. _She's different. She's smarter than Dick, tougher than Jason. She's beautiful._ He counters, his eye twitched and his hands flex around Carrie as he shifts her weight to open one of the many guest bedroom doors.

 _We swore we would never take in another Robin, not after what happened to Jason. We can't forget; we'll never forget._ The Dark Knight's voice was loud in his head as he grabbed the blanket, stripping it back from the bed. He set her down gently on the plush mattress and pulled the blanket over her.

 _You will never stop_... the voice growls in his ear. _You can't._

His hands clenched at his sides as he bent over Carrie, brushing his lips against her forehead. _This isn't about me._ He urged, _it's about her._ He straightened and turned to leave, though he couldn't help but pause to turn and look at her. She smiled back at him hopefully.

 ** _It's always about you_** **.**


	4. The Asylum

Robin revs the engine - her motorcycle purrs as it weaves gracefully through traffic; wheels squealing with purchase as she cuts tightly between Gotham commuters. The GPS on her helmet's internal display has her on the most direct route to Arkham Asylum. Above it there's a timer, counting down. She has fifty-one minutes to reach the asylum, to reach Bruce. She hits the throttle.

She arrives with sixteen minutes to spare. Carrie backs into the alley across from Arkham and kills the engine. Her cape billows as she dismounts the bike – wind whips through the alley, stirring up dead leaves and discarded trash. Her hair cascades out of her helmet as she pulls it off. She sets it on the seat of her red motorcycle before engaging the cloaking feature with a beep. Can't steal what you can't see, and you can't trust anyone in The Narrows. Carrie takes her glasses out of the breast pocket of her uniform and pushes them up her nose. It takes a moment for her display to calibrate. Once it has, she takes a deep breath and steps out of the mouth of the alley. Across the road is her destination. The towering, infamous Arkham Asylum. Where Gotham's craziest are held. Joker's home-sweet-home. The main gate has been left wide open, balloons with curly strings are weaved into the wrought iron; announcing where the party is.

It's not as if she would have ever had the element of surprise; he's waiting for her. He's been setting this up the whole time, jerking her around like an idiot trying to solve his puzzles, play his game. All to wind up here. The Grand Finale. Why is it that walking across the road, and standing at the mouth of the long drive, feel like she's stepping up to the executioners block?

The courtyard outside the Asylum is empty save for purple and green heart-shaped balloons lining the drive in even intervals. With each crunching step she grows more uneasy. Something is definitely wrong here. Joker is setting a stage. Why? Why is he going through so much effort for her? She approaches the entrance, on either side of the stone steps are large, bronze lions. A red smile is painted over their mouths. The doors open as she mounts the stairs. The foyer beyond the open doors is decorated for a party. A welcome banner hangs from the ceiling, a little crooked. She takes a few deep breaths before trudging on. Batman needs her.

It worries her still as she passes through the open doors and yet, there is no one. She wasn't sure what to expect, she's never been here before. Whenever Batman goes, he goes alone. He tells her it's to protect her, that no matter what – it isn't a place she needs to go, that there are things here...things she doesn't need to see. So he leaves her behind – so much for partners. Now she's here, forced to save him. Maybe if she'd been here before, she'd at least have a chance...but she's like a fish in a barrel, and Joker has the gun.

A large, purple arrow has been painted on the cracked marble floor in front of a set of ornate stairs leading upwards into the labyrinth of Arkham Asylum. Slowly Carrie turns to take in the rest of the room. Under the party decorations everything is coated with a layer of filth. This didn't seem a best place to come to get better...it's a place they used to dump people, and it's Joker's castle. He knew she would be naive enough to come here, to come for Batman. The doors swing closed behind her with a boom, causing her to practically jump out of her skin. She's trapped.

Idiot.

Carrie turns and begrudgingly follows the arrow up the steps. Her boots echo on the marble stairs. She can't help but marvel a the large painting hung above the forked landing. It had to be ten feet tall. It was an oil painting depicting the Joker. He stood in formal dress, his hand tucked into the breast of his jacket. While it distracts her, the lights go out - plunging her into darkness. Her glasses automatically adjust to night vision. The sound of static startles her as speakers come alive. The Joker taps on the microphone and clears his throat.

"Hellooooooo, little bird." He tweets in a sing-song voice. His cackling makes her cringe. "I am so glad you came to visit! Ya'know, Batsy and I were wondering when our little girl was gonna come home!" More laughter. Under it, she could hear something...something moving above her. She turns very, very slowly to look upwards. A body has appeared on the next landing. "Here's a welcome home present, from Daddy Jay!" The speakers cut out with another burst of static as the lights are cut back on. Again, her vision adjusts. She's caught between checking her surroundings and staring at the body. Just for a second, she lets her gaze stray to make sure she's in the clear. A purple curtain has fallen over the archway to the stairway leading off behind her. Her eyes sweep the foyer below her. Clear. Back to the body. It hasn't moved. She glances back over her shoulder at the curtain - feeling incredibly uneasy being unable to see beyond it, before heading towards the stairs. She ascends to check the body.

She immediately regrets this.

There is a gaping hole where the face should be. Everything – literally everything – has been scooped out of the skull and bleached. Inside the remainder of the cranium is a Polaroid of...a crotch? She crouches over the skull, resting her hands on her knees to get a closer look without touching anything. It is a crotch. The legs are pasty, pale white, the stomach is toned and hairless. Dressed in pair of white boxers with hand stitched, green "HA"s written across it and a purple bow over the center. A purple gloved hand could be seen resting against his hip. She frowns at the picture and steps around the corpse. An arrow was drawn on the floor. She follows it up.

The speakers come alive again. For a second it's silent. She doesn't move. Then...she can hear soft giggles. Joker's giggles. They get louder and louder, bubbling into his trademark hysterical laugh. It echoes through the entire asylum and it doesn't stop; it just keeps going and going. She keeps low, and continues up the stairs into the hallway at the top.

Hanging just inside the archway is a man in a straight jacket, a meat hook keeping him suspended in the air. It's jutting through his torso, his heart skewered on the end. She gags at the sight of this and turns her head to look away. The laughter over the speakers stops immediately.

"Whaaaaat?" Joker coos into the microphone, "Don't you like it? It's for you. I'm giving you my heart, girl wonder!" He cackles until the sound cuts out. She follows the arrow on the floor, making her way up through the asylum. As she continues, she finds another body. It's limbs are bent at odd angles but it's still somehow on the hands-and-knees position. There's a second body behind it. Both are completely naked with their bones straining against the skin. Her stomach lurches, the only reason she keeps going at this point is to get away from the last atrocity. "Do you love it?" Joker purrs, breathy against the microphone. He groans into it, silent afterwards. A soft rhythmic sound comes through, and she's horrified. He's masturbating into the mic so that she hears it. After a moment it he grabs the receiver and puts it right against his mouth. "Hurry up!" He shouts, dissolving into static.

Each body she finds is some grotesque depiction of a romantic or sexual act. Every patient is strung up somewhere in some manner to torture her. Up a flight of stairs, to the left, down a hall, to the right, up an elevator to the fifth floor, to the left, to the left, up stairs, to the right, through a door, and down a hall. At the end is a door. Room 0801. She's shaking as she finally approaches the door. The horrors she'd witnessed, the things the Joker had done in her name. Before she can take another step, she vomits on her boots.

She's so close now. Batman would be on the other side of that door. But so would the Joker. She slowly makes her way towards it, her adrenaline pumping faster with every step. She feels sick. The door opens as she grows near. The lights inside the room are off. She stops just in front of the doorway, trying to make out anything inside the room. It's hopeless. She stumbles inside.

Immediately the door slams closed behind her, plunging her into total darkness. She takes her staff in both hands and gets into a defensive stance, putting her back directly against the door behind her. After a moment of complete silence she hears rustling... She turns her body towards it and steps forward, holding her staff out in front of her. "Batman?" She asks softly, taking another step forward, "Batman is that you?"

"Guess again." She hears a hissing sound, and gasps – filling her lungs with the gas that had just been released inches from her face. Her head spins and she stumbles backwards a few feet, her back hitting the wall behind her. She slides down the wall and drops her staff. Laughter bubbles up from her throat, though nothing is funny. Nothing at all. In fact, she's terrified. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should have let him die, little bird." The voice is all around her, engulfing her in it's embrace. She feels leather against her skin as a hand strokes against her face, "Now I have you both." Robin slips under, the world around her disappearing as she falls into unconsciousness.


	5. Truth

Blinding white light assaults her eyes as she regains consciousness. She blinks rapidly, trying to get her vision to adjust – even so, everything is blurry without her glasses though they aren't the only thing missing. The only thing covering her naked body is a thin, papery hospital gown. It takes her a moment to get her panic in order. She sits up slowly, staving off dizziness. That's when she sees him. The Joker, standing across the room from her, leaning leisurely against the padded door. "Goodmorning, little bird." He says, clicking his tongue as he straightens and steps closer to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy. Nice and ripe. Like you care."

"Au contraire, I care very much." He waves his finger inches from her face so she can see it better. She wants to bite it off. He crouches and grabs her face in his vice-like grip. Grinning madly into her face. "Does anything hurt?"

"No." She spits, literally, in his face. Which earns her a slap. He backhands her, toppling her over onto the padded floor.

"No manners." He growls, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her across the soft ground into the center of the room. He whistles, and the door opens. The same nurse from before pushes a wheelchair into the room. Batman sits in it, now bound in a straight jacket and shackles – strapped to the chair. There's a muzzle over his mouth. "Batsy!" The Joker greets him warmly, his hand still laced through Robin's red hair. "So nice of you to join us."

Batman stares at Robin, his eyes unreadable. He looks from her, to Joker, then back to her. His eyes soften just for a moment as their gaze meets, before it hardens again. But she understands. The Joker gets down on one knee next to her, pulling her head back by her hair – making her lift her chin. He pushes his face into the nape of her neck and inhales against her skin. As he passes her jaw, he extends his long tongue and licks across it, causing her to shudder and gasp. "I am going to ask you some questions now, birdy," Joker coos, kissing her cheek. However, his eyes are locked with Batman's. "Answer them, and you'll be rewarded. Lie to me...and Batsy will be punished." As an example, the nurse jabs a long, thick needle into Batman's chest. The pain is clear on his face, even if he doesn't make a noise. Blood stains the straight jacket.

"How old are you?" The Joker asks.

"Twenty."

"Ohoho!" He giggles and clicks his tongue, "Batsy likes 'em young, doesn't he? He could be your daddy! Even your granddaddy! What an old pervert~" He pats her face, "Good girl. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What? Why does that matter?" She asks. The nurse promptly stabs another needle into Bruce. "No!" She yells, "I mean, no, no I don't have a boyfriend. Okay?"

"A pretty thing like you? Why not?"

"I-I don't care. Romance isn't important to me."

"What is important to you?"

"Justice."

"Oh, now you sound like Batsy here. Come on, tell me the truth." Another needle is pushed into Batman, this time he grunts softly. "What's important to you?"

"Helping people."

"Lie!" This time the nurse pulls a hammer from who knows where, and brings it down hard on Bruce's hand. The one she had stabbed earlier. He yells against the muzzle.

"Batman!" Robin cries out, struggling against the Joker's grasp. He tsk's and wraps his free hand around her throat, squeezing hard for a moment – causing her to cough.

"Tell me." He growls.

"Batman." Robin says softly. "Batman is important to me."

"Why?"

"I saved his life...he made me Robin, and it's all I could ever ask for."

"That's not the only reason. Why?" The hammer is brought down again. This time on one of Batman's knees. He cries out. "Why is he important to you, Robin? Why?"

"I love him." She whispers.

"What was that?"

"I love him!" She says louder, tears spilling from her eyes as she meets Batman's eyes. "He took me in, and I fell in love with him."

"Look at him," The Joker says, "Look in his face – he knows, doesn't he? He knows but he doesn't feel the same way. Oh...he loves you, alright, but not like that – he doesn't see you as a woman. Just a girl. A foolish girl." Robin sobs softly, watching Batman as the Joker speaks directly into her ear. "He'll never love you the way you want him to." He continues. He releases her hair, though his other hand remains around her throat. "Shhhh now, it's alright." He leans in closer, his nose pressing against her cheek as he speaks. "I'll make him sorry." He says gently, stroking her hair affectionately. "I'll make him wish he loved you more. I'll make him wish he protected you better."

The fingers around her neck tighten and she chokes. Batman struggles against the chair as the Joker moves behind her, still choking her. She whimpers, a strangled noise leaves her parted lips and Batman struggles harder, grunting against the muzzle. "Oh Batsy, hush," Joker says, laughing. He pulls Robin against him, her back against his chest, her hips against his pelvis. He buries his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as she struggles for air, her face turning red. Just as her vision blurs he releases her throat. Robin gasps and falls forward onto her hands, coughing hard.

The Joker doesn't give her more than a second to recover before he's pushing her face down into the cushion. His fingers lace through her hair and give it a hard tug, causing her to cry out. Batman yells, practically toppling the wheelchair over. This earns him another whap with the hammer.

"Calm down, Batsy, jeez! Look at him, getting all excited. He hasn't seen anything yet, has he, birdy?" With his other hand, Joker unties the hospital gown Robin is wearing. It falls away, revealing her bare backside and her muscular thighs. He whistles, laughing as he takes in the sight of her. "Really now, I don't know how you've held back." He mocks, "I mean...even in her little costume she's so...provocative." His eyes meet Batman's as he laughs at him. His hand slides down her bare back and over her ass. He squeezes it hard. She gasps, trying to pull herself away from him. He only pulls her hair harder and gives her rear a slap. "Uh uh uh," He scolds, "Come now, birdy, behave."

He pulls her head up so she's forced to look at Batman. Her tearful eyes meet his and she bites her lip. "Batman-" She begins, but she doesn't know what to say.

"Say his name, little bird," The Joker coos, "Say his name, and you'll get a reward."

"B-Bruce..." She whimpers, her tears flowing.

"Good girl." The Joker laughs. His belt jingles, and she can hear his zipper. "Say it again."

"Bru-" She's cut off by her own strangled cry as The Joker pushes himself into her. Bruce's eyes widen and he thrashes in the chair, screaming against his gag. She whimpers, sobbing now as the Joker forces himself into her.

"Say it." The Joker says, leaning forward and wrapping his hand around her neck without choking her this time. "Say his name." She gives her head a soft shake. "Oh?" He giggles, pulling his hips back before thrusting himself inside again, causing her to yell. "Say it."

"Bruce!" She sobs. She closes her eyes so she doesn't have to look at him. The Joker releases her throat and pushes her back down into the floor. Both hands move to her hips as he moves his hips back again, thrusting in harder than before. She cries out, struggling.

"Shhhh, be a good bird." The Joker says in a soothing voice, he strokes against her ass as he fucks her. His hips moving slow, but they slam into her nonetheless. Every time he moves, she whines. Her shoulders are shaking as she cries into the floor.

"Please..." She begs, turning her head so she can look behind her at the Joker. He isn't looking at her. He's looking at Bruce. "Please...stop..."

"Hush." He says and puts his hand over her mouth. He leans in and laughs against her ear, licking the lobe. "This is what you want, isn't it? Not from me...but from him. You want Batman to make love to you, to teach to be more than his sidekick." He giggles and bites her ear, tugging it. "Are you a virgin, little bird?" He asks, laughing, "I mean...were you? Ohoohoohoohahaha~"

The Joker quickens his pace. His hysterical laughter still echoes in Carrie's mind. Her chest heaves as he moves his hips against her. Again, he isn't looking at her. He's looking at Bruce. Staring at him with a sick grin on his face while he fucks her. She can't bare to look up at Batman and see who he is looking at. Him? Or her? She closes her eyes. She doesn't want to see this. She doesn't want this to be real. It takes the Joker a moment to notice that her has lost her visual attention. Once he does, he grips her hair tightly and rears her head back. "Open your eyes," He hisses into her ear. She gasps as her eyelids flicker open and her gaze meets Bruce's. Tears spill down her cheeks and she cries as the Joker laughs behind her, which fails to dull the sound of his skin slapping against hers. His hands slowly move across her skin until they wrap around her neck, squeezing until she faints with his cock still pumping into her. Her eyes roll back in her head, the last thing she sees is Bruce struggling desperately. _Help me..._


	6. Broken Bird

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** thank you all so much for your patience with this chapter. I struggled a lot to get it done because every time I re-read it I was unsatisfied. This is the pinnacle point in the story - the part where everything changes for the Bat family. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I've already started on other ones and I've finally finished the outline for the entire fic. Thank you for reading, and please write a review!

Carrie lays naked, strapped to an metal slab in the middle of a cold, sterile room. A thick belt wraps around her arms and midriff; strapping her to the table uncomfortably tight. Her hips down are exposed and unbound against the shining chrome. It takes her a moment for the fog of unconsciousness to clear. Once she's alert she notices Bruce. He's bandaged now, strapped to a strange sort of chair. His head is held in a harness against a headrest, his mouth covered with duct tape. His eyelids are held open by blunted hooks while a clown-nurse drips liquid into his eyes to keep them moistened. Carrie would utter his name if it weren't for the ring holding her mouth open. She exhales heavily, wheezing a bit as she tries to get her sights on the Joker. Whipping her head around isn't exactly easy strapped to a table with a gag in your mouth. The more she sees the more realization slowly sets; they're in the morgue.

Panic strikes her like lightning. She turns her attention back to Bruce, their eyes meet while tears drip down her face, pooling on the gleaming table. _I'm going to die_. There was nothing but certainty in the thought. She knows what happened to Jason. The Joker will kill her and he'll make Bruce watch. Holding back her tears does her no favors. A sob shudders through her as she openly weeps. Fear, sorrow, longing, regret, panic, anger – everything boils to the surface, everything she'd been holding in for so long comes pouring out of her. She isn't the only one who is crying, though he's glad she isn't watching.

Even while sitting there, forced to watch his partner be violated over, and over – watching her break down in front of him, a girl who is always so strong. Even as the thought crosses his mind that the Joker is going to kill her in front of him, he still cannot will himself to want to kill the Joker. He can't, it isn't who he is. He doesn't kill. He doesn't kill. He doesn't kill, and the Joker knows it. The Joker knows that no matter what he does that Batman cannot, and will not kill him.

After awhile they can hear footsteps echoing off the tiled floors. They grow ever closer until the double doors behind Bruce crash open, and in strides Joker. He's carrying a metal briefcase, which he sets on the edge of the table she's strapped to. He waggles his eyebrows at her, giggling as he unlocks the case and withdraws a fat syringe with a long needle, filled with a toxic green liquid. He snaps it closed with a single hand and shifts his attention entirely to her naked body. He clucks his tongue, taking the plastic cap off the needle and flicking it. "Now for some fun," He says with another giggle. He uses his free hand to spread her legs, holding them open despite Carrie desperately flailing about. "Nurse!" Joker growls, and another clown-nurse materializes and grabs Carrie's ankles, holding them against the table with her legs spread. "Be a good bird..." He coos threateningly, before jabbing her in the labia with the needle and emptying it's contents into her genitals.

The effect is immediate. Her sex warms as the liquid spreads. Her lips redden and swell and everything feels so...good. She can feel her natural lubricant dripping from her exposed hole. It pulses with need and she moans softly. Shame and disgust fill her mind, but her body is too overwhelmed with pleasure. So much so, the thoughts wash away. The feeling that the serum brings her is all encompassing. Her body quakes on the table. The nurse releases her legs as she relaxes against the cold metal. Her eyes dilate. Her heartbeat quickens and her skin grows hot to the touch. She's never felt so aroused and so desperate to be fucked. The warmth between her legs is persistent, making her swollen sex ache with need. All the while Joker is circling the table, watching her with interest as he takes in her reaction to the drug.

Carrie's eyes flickers to him. An exhale turns into a moan through the ring. The shy embarrassment of her moves; her reactions fuel him. His cock grows stiff under his designer trousers. His hands busy with unbelting her, hastily pulling the ring out of her mouth. Once her arms are free she immediately covers her breasts, turning her head away so she doesn't have to look at him. Her bashfulness has him biting his lip.

"I can see why you're his weakness, little bird..." He purrs, leaning in to lick across her stomach. It heaves and a shuddering moan leaves her throat as his slick tongue makes contact with her beaded flesh again.

His lips trail sloppy, loud kisses up her body. His pries Carrie's arms away and holds her wrists down against the metal. His head dips down so he may encircle one of her nipples with his tongue. He sucks on it gently as she struggles against his grasp. Her brain is screaming with how wrong this is – how she shouldn't be enjoying it but everything is so fuzzy, and her limbs are so heavy. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Why is he trying to make her feel...good?

Joker pulls away, drawing out a disappointed whimper that she tries to stifle to no avail. He grins down at her, releasing her arms so he can palm his cock through his pants. "Is this what you want?" He asks, grinning as she peeks down at his hands. "Do you want my cock?"

Yes. Her mind screams but she covers her mouth with her hands. Her silence is met with hostility. He grabs her wrists again, pulling them away from her face. The Joker replaces her hands with his lips. He doesn't need to force her to kiss him, she does it willingly. Opening her mouth for him, sticking out her tongue so he can suck on it. Her juices drip down her thighs while she's shaking under him. Joker pulls away and pulls her with him. Dragging her off the table and turning her around for Bruce to see.

"Brucey, I'd almost forgotten you were here." He giggles as he wraps his arms around Carrie's exposed body, leaning his chin on her shoulder. "Isn't she beautiful? I'm sure she'd look much prettier with a smile...you see, Bruce, I injected her with an extremely powerful aphrodisiac. Her body is ripe for the picking, and she wants it. Don't you, birdy? Tell us how badly you want it."

His hands stroke against her skin, causing goosebumps to raise across her flesh. She sighs as he nuzzles his face into her neck and sucks on her skin. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against his shoulder, but doesn't respond. The Joker lets go of her, snatching his arms away from her while he takes a step back. Her eyes flutter open and they meet Bruce's. Shame pierces through her but it's starting to ache...her need, her desire...her skin feels sunburned now that he isn't touching her, and the pain only increases the longer he doesn't. She closes her eyes and drops her head. "I want it..."

"What was that, little bird?"

"I want it." She says a little louder.

His hands are on her again, one on her neck and one on her hip. She sighs and relaxes into his arms. "Say it. Tell me what you want. Beg me for it."

Tears spill down her face, "I want you to fuck me. Please," She turns her back to Bruce, looking up into Joker's face, "I need it. Please fuck me."

His giddy laughter echoes off the cold storage drawers and tiled walls. "Get on your knees."

Carrie reflexively does what she's told. Only realizing what she'd done once she was already on the floor. His cock is waiting for her, and without a second thought she takes it in her mouth. "Look how eager you are, your mouth feels amazing, Robin." He giggles, meeting Bruce's eyes. "Look at her, Bruce. Look at her sucking my cock, I didn't even have to force her to." He laughs, putting both hands on the back of her head and fucking her throat. She gags and coughs around him, but he doesn't stop. His gaze locked with Bruce's while he fucks his sidekick's face. The Joker moans, petting his hand through Carrie's hair affectionately. "Good girl," He purrs, lacing his fingers into her fiery locks and pushing her head down on his cock – he holds it there, watching her face leak tears, and snot, and drool. He laughs as he pulls out of her throat and she throws up on the floor between his feet.

He picks her up by the hand in her hair and turns her to look at Bruce. Her face and chest are covered in her saliva. Joker grabs her face and rubs it around, smearing snot all over her. "Good girl, you did such a good job." He slaps her in the face – her yell echoes as he slaps her again, and again until her cheek is red and his hand is stinging. "Nurse!" He barks, "Bring me a gurney!"

A nurse rolls in a stretcher, giggling as she does. She locks the wheels and smiles, bowing to them. "Here ya go, Mistah Jay." She says, blowing him a kiss.

"Hmmm, did you hear that little bird? Did you hear what she called me? Say it."

"M-Mr. Jay." Carrie says weakly.

The Joker bends her over the side of the gurney and slaps her ass. She yells, letting her head drop so she doesn't have to look at Bruce. "Do you want me to fuck you?" He asks.

"Yes..." She replies.

"Beg."

"Please. Mr. Jay, please fuck me."

"Where? Where do you want me to put my cock?"

"I-I-I-..."

"Say it, or I'll put it wherever I damn well please."

"My p-pussy...please put it in my pussy. Mr. Jay."

The Joker groans as she says it, lacing his fingers through her bangs and jerking her head back, forcing her to look at Bruce. "Say it again. Look him in the eye, and say it again." He giggles.

"No." She tries to shake her head, but he pulls harder. She whimpers, tears dripping down her face.

"Tell Batman that you want my cock, little bird. If you don't, I promise this will hurt."

Carrie meets Bruce's eyes and a sob bursts from her lips. She's so aroused it hurts. Her labia is swollen and aching – her juices dripping down her thighs. But even in this state, even with her mind foggy with the drug – she can't make herself say it. She can't.

"Oh ho ho ho, I was so hoping for this." The Joker cackles. Something cold and wet suddenly drips down her back, in between her butt cheeks. His fingers spread her, smearing lubricant all over her exposed ass. He gently passes his fingers over her pussy, causing her to moan in need. He teases her for only a second before he removes his touch. He squirts a generous amount onto himself, applying it evenly across his sensitive flesh with a throaty moan. "Look at you..." He muses, sliding himself against her. His slick cock glides easily between her cheeks. Brushing past her sex. He rubs himself along her twitching cunt, the heat of him, the pulse of his blood along his shaft – she whimpers and closes her eyes so she doesn't have to look at Bruce.

He teases her for a few agonizing moments, until he can't bare it anymore. He pulls away, positioning himself against her asshole and pushing in without a seconds warning. It burns, it feels like he's splitting her open. She cries out, her fingers digging into the gurney as he laughs above her. "Oh, does it hurt?" He teases, "I told you it would." He doesn't even wait for her to adjust to his size before he starts to fuck her ass.

Carrie screams, cries, pleads desperately for him to stop. All he does is laugh. His pounds into her violently, arching over her to wrap his hand around her neck, and squeeze until she can't breathe. Strangled sobs heave from her chest as he fucks her relentlessly. Her eyes bulge open and she's forced to look at Bruce again. His expression breaks her heart.

 _He'll never see me the same way._

 _He'll never want me now._

 _Please let me die._

Joker slides a hand between her legs, cupping her sex in the warmth of his palm, rubbing against her clit. Her whole body pulses as he slows his thrusts. It starts to feel good, oh so good. His fingers toying with her cunt as he moves ever so carefully in and out of her ass. He releases her throat, causing her to cough wildly. He laughs breathlessly, "Your coughs make your ass tighten, oh, little bird..." His left hand joins the other, grabbing at her thigh and spreading her open farther for him.

He fucks her. His hands on her thighs, pulling her back into his cock with every thrust. He groans as he bends over her, inching his cock in and out of her while he rubs her clit. She shudders, shaking her head as she can feel it; her orgasm, building. She needs the release, it's the only way to make her skin cool off. It's the only way to make the ache lessen. "Oh, Girl Wonder, are you going to cum for me?" He coos in her ear, licking the lobe. His fingers grow erratic as he pumps his cock into her. "I can feel your naughty cunt quivering," He giggles, looking at Bruce. "Are you watching?" As if he could look away.

It doesn't take much more for her to finally release. She'd never gotten off by anyone's hand but her own. Her eyes roll back and cross as her orgasm hits her like a tsunami. Her noises get louder and louder as he continues to stimulate her. Another round of shockwaves jolt through her and she gushes. Cum, pee, whatever – it trickles down her legs and splatters the floor. She hides her face; mortified, while he cackles in her ear. Mr. Jay tucks his arms under her, hugging her painfully close while he pumps into her erratically. Both hands, crossed over her chest, meet at her neck and he squeezes. All blood, and air flow are blocked by his steel-like grasp. His cock violently assaults her while he stares Batman dead in the face. She's also looking at him, as her face goes from red to purple and yet he still does not let up.

He's going to kill me. She thinks, though she does nothing to fight it – nothing to fight him off. Her vision is tunneling and decorated with black dots. Please just kill me already. His grip only lessens once she's fainted. He moves his arms from her chest, to her legs, where he digs his hands into her skin to pick her up. He hooks ups elbows under her knees. He kicks the gurney out of the way as he holds her like this – it spins wildly and crashes against the far wall. "Look at her." He cooes at Bruce, slowly inching his cock in and out of her. "She begged me for it, Batman." He reminds him, licking the side of her neck. Still holding Carrie he steps closer and closer to Bruce, until her dripping pussy is mere inches from his face. The nurse tears the tape off his lips and he hisses. "Don't you want a taste?" He asks. The nurse holds his mouth open and the Joker plants her ready sex against his mouth.

Bruce inhales deeply through his nose. Unable to move or struggle do to the harness keeping his head in place. A pin prick stings on the back of his neck and its as if someone put his insides in a bubble bath. The Joker grins down at him knowingly as the nurse frees Bruce's head from it's bondage. His whole body quickly warms and his cock stands at attention. His animal urges take over quickly. The drug making him blind to reason. In the back of his mind, Batman scolds him. But Bruce isn't listening anymore. Still strapped to the chair, Bruce growls against the sex in his mouth. His lips move over it slowly, tongue lapping up the slit, teeth gently capturing her clit between them.

Carrie awakens like this – with Bruce's mouth to her cunt. It takes her a moment to come to entirely, her soft mewling fueling Joker, and Bruce. The Clown King hasn't ceased pumping into her ass. Confusion is written all over her face. How'd she get here, and who? Her eyes travel downward and widen. "Bruce-" His eyes turn up to meet hers, and it only encourages him.

"He can't hear you, birdy." The Joker purrs in her ear, "He probably won't even remember this – I gave him something different." He giggles, "He can't say no to his dick." He laughs, thrusting up harder – bumping her sex against Bruce's mouth rhythmically. "He can't say no to what he really wants."

The Joker removes himself from Carrie, taking her away from Bruce. He watches her attentively, struggling against the straight jacket – growling in need. The nurse goes to his ankles and pulls off the draw-string pants. His cock springs free, standing at attention. "Do you want him, birdy?" Joker purrs in her ear, "Do you want his cock?"

The idea of Bruce filling up her holes makes her weak. She can't deny him, can't deny the Joker. "Yes," She whimpers, cursing herself for her own weakness. The Joker just giggles and carries her toward Bruce. He turns her around so that she's face-to-face with him. Carrie's eyes are wide with surprise as she looks into his wild eyes. "Come here," He coos, capturing her lips with his, slithering his long tongue in between them, licking at her soft muscle.

He drops to his knees in front of the wheelchair, breaking the kiss to set her on the floor. She watches him intently, listening as he tells her to turn around and suck Bruce's cock on her hands and knees. The Joker sits back and marvels at them, loving the scene before him. Bruce would never remember this but he will never forget.

Watching quickly got old. He crawls to Carrie, grabbing a cheek in each hand and spreading her ass wide. She moans around Bruce's cock but doesn't stop sucking as the Joker runs his tongue across her ass. He eats her enthusiastically, making wet, slurping noises as he does. After awhile, his onslaught

drags an orgasm out of her. She's stopped sucking, her cheek resting on Bruce's thigh, her hands wrapped around the metal arms of the wheelchair. She cries out, but he doesn't cease. The longer he goes on for, the more sensitive she becomes.

"Stop-" He doesn't. Her moans turn to giggles, which turns to laughter. Hysterical laughter as her body spasms. Still he doesn't stop, not until she's gushing, filling his mouth with her squirt. He sputters, laughing as he smacks his lips, licking all the residual cum off of his mouth.

"Good girl," He purrs as he leans in to kiss up her spine. "I want you to sit on his cock, little bird." He instructs, petting her hair, "I want you to fill your ass with him."

"But-"

He slaps her ass. Hard. "The only butt I want, is yours, around his cock." He growls, "Now." She obeys out of fear of retribution. She approaches him, grabbing the armrest of the wheelchair. The Joker tsks behind her, "Not like that, birdy, turn around." Carrie does as she's told. Turning to face Joker again. Her hand slides down, between her legs and reaches back to hold Bruce's cock in place. Slowly, she lowers herself onto him. Inch by inch, he fills her. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip and she exhales heavily through her nose. She hadn't even gotten very far when Bruce thrusts up into her making her cry out. "Oh ho ho ho ho," The Joker giggles, "Look how impatient he is...put your feet up, love. On his legs – that's right," Her hands brace herself on the arm rests, spread legs, feet resting on Bruce's thighs to keep her upright.

The Joker comes closer, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and grinning into her face. "Do you love it?" He asks. She can only nod, unable to find the words through her pleasure fogged brain. "Stick out your tongue." He captures it in his mouth when she obeys, sucking on it. She moans as she holds her mouth open for him. His fingers find her clit and she spasms. Bruce groans behind her. "Did you clench around his cock? Does that feel good?"

Impatient as he is, he holds himself off for a moment longer before rubbing his cock against her cunt. He slides it up passed her clit, teasing her with it. "I'm going to put it in." He tells her, "You're going to have your holes stuffed by your hero, and your villain." He cackles, finding it absolutely amusing. "Get ready now," He purrs, kissing her softly as he pushes his cock passed her walls.

Carrie's eyes cross and a low, primal moan leaves her in an exhale. "Look at that face..." He teases, holding her head aloft for she'd lost her ability to hold it upright, like a baby. "I haven't done more than fill your drooling cunt, and already you have that look on your face." Buried to the base, he slowly pulls himself out – stopping just before the head before rolling his hips forward again. He fucks her slowly, softly, looking down into her face with a look of adoration.

Meanwhile Bruce is fucking her like his life depends on it. Thrusting up powerfully. If his hands had been free they'd be digging into her hips, pulling her down on top of him. He moans as well when Joker fills her – it tightens the hole around his cock and has his body shuddering in the chair. He seems passed words at this point.

With his fingers brushing against her clit, Joker picks up the pace of his hips groaning as he pumps in and out of her. She tightens around his cock and gushes, again. Her voice raises in a pleasured scream, her juices splattering on him and the floor. "Good girl, you cum so beautifully," He giggles, petting the side of her face.

Bruce's thrusts get more erratic. He fucks her harder, growling as he reaches his own climax. His head falls back, his hips arched upwards into her – holding himself in her down to the base. "Take it," Joker growls, "He's filling you up with his cum...I bet you wanted it in your sweet cunt, hmmm?" He pulls her away from Bruce, who is absolutely spent, holding her in his arms while he fucks her. His toes curl and his fingers dig into the meat of her ass.

"I'm going to cum inside you," He says, licking up her neck and biting on her earlobe. "Are you ready, Girl Wonder?" He asks, but doesn't give her a second to respond before he pours himself into her. His cock throbs inside, making her spasm around it. "That's my girl," He coos. He pulls himself out of her, cradling her in his arms as the nurse pushes the gurney back over to him. He lays her down on it, brushing her sweaty, fiery hair out of her face. Her eyes flutter open to focus on his face before she turns her head away, hiding. Shame an embarrassment shake her to her very core. "Take him away," He instructs the nurse, waving his hand to shoo them out.

"Wait-" Carrie turns, "Are you...are you going to kill us?" She asks, looking directly into his eyes. "Gotham needs him. He can always get another Robin, but please don't kill Batman."

"What would you do to prolong your hero's life, little bird?"

"Anything."

"Anything? That's so very broad, Robin, are you sure?" He grins at her, watching as regret widens her eyes.

What is he going to make me do?

"Come back to me. I will let the both of you leave, as long as you promise to come back and let me fuck you again, and again, and again." He licks his lips, "You're going to want to either way...the drug I injected you with is highly addictive. You won't be able to last very long without it."

"Is...is Bruce going to remember this?"

"Oh? Probably not," He shrugs, palms-up, "But who knows~" He giggles. "Do we have a deal?"

"Our lives in exchange for-"

"You being my sweet little slut," Joker purrs, leaning down to kiss her jaw, "Do we have a deal?" He repeats.

"Yes."

"Yes, what? Tell me."

"I-I'll be your...your slut, in exchange for sparing our lives."

"Tell me you promise."

"I promise." She whimpers.

"Good girl." He kisses her lips softly, "I'll see you soon."

A signature hiss permeates the quiet, smokey gas filling the sterile room. Laughter bubbles out of her, giggling at first but soon she's hysterical. She hates this feeling. Joker's gas makes her feel sick to her stomach while she laughs, and laughs, and laughs – unable to speak. Tears spill down her face as her muscles ache with her cachinnation. The lack of oxygen, both caused by her unending laughter and the gas, soon has her slipping once more into unconsciousness.

More nurses appear, "Clean her off, and put her in a jacket." The Joker instructs, wiping off his cock with a towel and discarding it on the shining chrome examination table. He shimmies back into his pants as the nurses wheel Carrie out of the room.

After they're gone he sighs, running a hand through his hair. With no one to watch him, his demeanor falls. Harley had left a void when she left, and this is the only way he could have conceived to fill her absence. He killed the Robin before and that had barely shaken Bruce Wayne. This time, he'd steal his Girl Wonder and turn her into his New Harley.


	7. Flashback ii

Barely a whisper is heard through the Asylum. As if it's terror lay dormant. With the patients strewn up about, there wasn't anyone left to scream. Except for Bruce and Carrie. But neither of them made a peep. Neither had the energy to. The halls leading to Carrie's isolation cell are sterile and white. Well maintained.

Everyone assumes the halls of Arkham are grimey and unkempt. But it's quite the opposite, especially when Joker is in charge. It's clean as a whistle, the floor practically sparkling under the fluorescents. Well - clean everywhere but where he hung the other patients.

Whatever the Joker gave her has worn off, leaving her with a roaring headache, over-sensitive skin, and a fever. She's overwhelmingly aware of the scratching canvas material of her straight jacket as it scrapes against her naked flesh. Every now and then she'll begin giggling uncontrollably. Nothing is funny, and it has left her in tears every time. Nothing is funny, yet the giggling continues.

Slowly, she forces herself into a sitting position. With every move the fabric cuts into her skin. It feels as if it's slicing her to ribbons under the jacket. Carrie hisses through her teeth as she makes herself slowly sit up, then kneel, and finally she pushes herself onto her feet. The sound of her labored breathing is absorbed by the padded walls.

Moving is hard. Every step feels like she's walking through mud. Her muscles screaming as she takes each step. It's agony. She makes her way over to the door. Leaning against it for support, she struggles to get on her tiptoes and peer through the circular window, not that what was on the other side of the door matters. Her muscles quickly give out. She slides down the door, trying ever so hard to keep herself from toppling over. No sobs whimper from her mouth; she's too dehydrated to cry. Agonizing isolation with no voice to scream and no tears to shed. Is he just leaving her here to die?

How long has it been since she first step foot in the asylum? Where is Batman?

How long does she lay like that?

 _I'm going to die._

Those words repeat; over and over in her head. It's maddening. There's nothing she can do but give up. No one to fight, nothing to punch; no way out. In the dark solitude all she can do is replay what happened in excruciating detail. Every breath, moan, thrust, whisper – laugh.

Over and over it plays in her mind, torturing her again, and again. She can feel his hands on her. Now they're burning hot, leaving scorching, phantom handprints all over her aching skin. Bruce's sad eyes. Bruce's hungry gaze. Bruce's hard cock. She gulps, but there's no moisture. Her throat burns.

 _I'm going to die._

At some point she slips unconscious, familiar and unwelcoming. Her body is completely out of energy. This isn't sleep; there are no dreams here. Just all encompassing darkness and scorching, itching heat...then laughter. It starts quietly, but it quickly escalates into hysterical cackling. Exploding agony pierces through her skull before...

 **Y O U**

"Is the music too loud!?" Carrie asked as she yanked the door open to the unmistakable Bruce Wayne, who looked just as surprised to see her. He's impossibly large, a hulking figure crowding the narrow hallway outside her apartment dressed in all-black. Her Halloween party continued behind her. The theme was Super Heroes. She'd chosen Robin, Batman's side-kick. An old costume. The one he'd worn when she was a child, watching Batman and Robin in the news on TV. That Robin had grown up and gone away, only to be replaced a few years later with another, and another, and another. Out of all of them, this had been her favorite.

"I'm looking for Carrie Kelley." Bruce Wayne said curtly after a long, awkward moment.

"That's me," She said, her arms crossed over her chest, "Is this about Damian?"

"I found these in his things." He handed over a small stack of books. This was everything that she had given him for their acting lessons.

"I assumed you knew about this." She said, looking up from the books in her hands. Her thumb idly stroked the soft leather.

"This is the last payment that was due," He set it atop the books and turned to leave.

"Wait!" But he didn't.

Carrie cursed, throwing the door closed behind her. She squeezed through the sea of bodies filling her apartment wall-to-wall, "Out of the way-" She pushed against the crowd and crashed into her bedroom. She threw the window open. It slammed against the frame. She could see him below, approaching a waiting car. "Where's Damian!?" She yelled, causing both Bruce and Alfred to look up at her in surprise.

Alfred gasped softly, "Master Bruce-"

"We're leaving. _Now_."

 **B R O K E**

Carrie hammered her fists on the large front doors of Wayne Manor. After Bruce had unceremoniously dropped by her party the night before, she hadn't slept. All she could think about was Damian and how she hoped he was okay. She needed answers, and she finally talked herself into confronting Bruce Wayne.

"What does she want?"

"Well, we won't know unless we let her tell us."

"Let her in." Alfred opened the front door, stretching out a hand of welcome. Bruce stood in the middle of the foyer looking annoyed. "What can I do for you, Miss Kelley?" He asked. "I have paid up my sons bill, our transaction is over."

"I took a thousand out of it, here's the rest." She handed it to Alfred, "thank you," and looks back up at Bruce. "I won't let you pay me for work I haven't done." She grins, "Well, I took my rent outta there too, so, it's all there minus twenty-five hundred, but I'm sure that's pocket change to you." In his home he doesn't seem as big as he did in her hallway, but he's still a beast of a man. Covered in scars and in the tail end of his prime. There's gray on his temples and wrinkles around his eyes. "Where's Damian?"

"Why are you so interested in my son?"

"He is my student, he has tremendous potential and I enjoy his company, no matter how much of a stubborn little ass he can be. I just want to know he's alright."

"Master Bruce-"

"Not now, Alfred, please." He stepped closer to Carrie so he's towering over her, looking down at her with an icy gaze. "My son is studying abroad for a few years. I will tell him you're worried and have him contact you as soon as he can."

She ground her teeth together as she listened to his pompous ass speak, "What, did your son cramp your bachelor lifestyle?" She asked venomously. He looks aghast. "That's not good enough."

"It's the most you'll get, take it and get out." He shook his head at her and turned away, "Alfred you can show her out now. Make sure she makes it past the gates." With that he excused himself.

"Is he always such an asshole?"

Alfred sighed, "He misses his son very much."

"Then why did he send him away?"

"He…he had no choice." Alfred extends his arm into the house, "Would you like a tour?"

"What about grumpy pants?"

Alfred snorted, immediately trying to cover it up with a cough. "Excuse me," He said with a grin, holding a door open for Carrie. On the other side is an opulent kitchen. "Would you care for some lunch?"

 **Y O U R**

Carrie dragged Batman towards his…tank? "God, you're fucking heavy." She only got a few yards before Batman pushed himself to his feet. She put herself under his arm, supporting him as best as she could .

"Robin…" He grumbles, sounding slightly concussed.

"I'm right here, Batman." She said assuredly. She finally got him to the hatch, which he practically face planted onto. She gets on, hitting a button she presumed will ascend them into the vehicle. She was right.

Once inside she got around to setting Batman's arm. She roots around, digging through different compartments until she finds a discarded baton. It'll have to do. She tears off the bottom of her cape, setting both of them down as she crouches next to her Hero. "This is gonna hurt." He hissed through his teeth as she grabs his arm and sets the bone right. She ties it up against the baton and ties it off around his neck.

A familiar voice came over the speaker, "Miss Kelley?"

"Alfred?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then… wait…Bruce Wayne is Batman?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Batman asked, pulling off his cowl with his other hand. Indeed it was Bruce Wayne.

"Girl Scouts." Carrie said proudly.

For the first time she saw Bruce smile. It quirked the sides of his mouth and he shook his head. "Girl Scouts. " He echoed. "Alfred? Bring us home."

"Is this really the best idea, Master Bruce?"

"Well, we don't really have a choice now, do we, soldier?"

"Affirmative." She said with a grin and a salute as the tank started rolling.

 **P R O M I S E**

Sobs shook her. Her tear-blurred vision however, did not blind her from the truth at her feet. Damian is dead. His gravestone is small and unassuming, nestled next to his grandparents and shaded under a dogwood tree. "How?"

"His mother."

"His _mother_?"

"Yes. His mother is the daughter of R'as Al Ghul, the head of the League of Assassins. She...took advantage of a situation. Eight years later, out of nowhere...there he is." Tears stream down his face silently, "She brought him to me to protect him, that's what she said. R'as was supposed to be dead, really dead, this time - but…" Carrie is absolutely lost at this point. Watching Bruce break down in front of her was as hard as looking at a little boy's grave. "After two years she came back. She killed him in front of me to prove a point." His breath hitches. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. "He tried to stop her from decemating Gotham. He succeeded, and she killed him for it. My son is a hero."

Carrie turned away from Damian's grave, unable to bear looking at it any longer. She shook her head and looked up at Bruce, both of them grieving and heart broken, both scared and unsure. But she's furious. "You lied to me. You let me believe he was just, away." She points a finger in his face, "Can you say that won't be me?" She turns back to the graveyard, wondering how many of these gravestones are here because of him. She walks away.

"Carrie, wait-" But she doesn't, instead she took off running. "Carrie, come back!"

 **B R U C E**

Carrie had let herself into the Batcave. Bruce was hunched over his desk, gear carelessly discarded in a trail from the Batmobile to his computers. Events from that night displayed on his computer monitors. It was worse than she had seen on the news. She stares up at his wall of screens in horror.

"Bruce…?" She asked softly, reaching her hand towards him tentatively. She rests it on his shoulder. His purple gloved hand rests atop hers. "I saw you on the news." She whispered, "I was worried."

"No need."

"It isn't something I can help, and clearly from this…" She gestures to the displays, "I was right to."

"You left."

"I'm scared." She said softly, "I don't…I don't want to die."

"I will never let anything happen to you, soldier." He assured her, sitting up to face her, _"I promise."_

 _"I promise."_

 _"I promise."_

 _"I promise."_

 _I'm going to die. You broke your promise…you broke your promise, Bruce…_

 _Carrie. Carrie wake up. Don't die on me, soldier._

 _Bruce?_

 _Wake up, little bird._

 _Joker?_

 _Carrie wake up._

Her eyes snap open. The door to her cell is ajar and light streams in – but a shadow falls over her. Who is it? Her sight is too blurry and it hurts to hold her eyes reopen. Whoever it is moves towards her, crouching next to her. They touch her face and lean in – slowly coming into focus. "Carrie." It's like he's speaking underwater. "Carrie are you in there?"

She tries to open her eyes more, tries to give him some kind of assurance but she's unable to. Her body doesn't respond. Everything feels so impossibly hard. "Carrie, look at me." It takes her all the strength she has left to focus on his face. His dark hair, his blue eyes, his strong jaw.

"Bruce…?"

He fumbles with the bindings of the straight jacket. Her arms ache as they fall to her sides and she lets out and involuntary groan of relief. She's propped up against the padded wall, trying to regain any sort of strength. "Bruce?" She croaks again, still unable to make out who it is in the darkness.

His response falls on deaf ears as she quickly fades out again, dragged back down into the darkness. She'll never be able to sleep after this.


	8. Addiction

"Carrie!" A voice is calling through the fog, "Carrie calm down, you're safe. You're alright. You're home." Her shoulders feel warm as calloused hands grip her tight, "Wake up, it's okay." Dick's gentle voice pulls her from the darkness. She had been struggling in her sleep, kicking and screaming. He had rushed in to help her - his bedroom is adjacent from hers. This whole wing was their bedrooms. Bruce's sidekicks; his children. It has been a long while since anyone but her has lived down this hall.

" _How can you do this again? How many more children will you taint with your unending crusade for what you conceive as justice!" His voice had raised into a shout. "Damian is gone, Bruce, and nothing, no one can bring him back! You have no right to, you aren't God. Yet you cannot bare the thought of being alone. Have you ever thought, maybe, it's time to hang up your cape, and leave it there? You almost did it before. Gotham was fine without you, Bruce. You didn't need to come back."_

" _This is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing. I can't just turn a blind eye, anymore, Nightwing." Even out of costume, he still refers to them by their code names. Batman and Bruce Wayne are two sides of the same coin, Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde – suspended in the air, forever spinning without a reason anymore. Just routine, muscle memory, and bad habits._

 _Carrie leaned against the rock wall, holding her body close to it so they didn't notice her. Bruce was furious. They fought for another ten minutes before Dick threw up his hands, "I'm done." He said venomously, marching to the stairs. He quirks a brow as he noticed her on his way up. "How much of that did you hear?" He asked._

" _All of it." Carrie replied sheepishly, wringing her hands together anxiously._

" _I refused to listen to reason when I first became Robin. I didn't let anyone talk me out of it; not even Bruce himself. So many times he told me I had to leave, that I couldn't do this. He couldn't steal away my innocence. But it was already gone, and he saw himself in me so he could never truly let me go. I don't blame you for any of this. You should leave, but I know you won't."_

" _Robin!" Bruce shouted from inside the cave. Of course he knew she was there. "Come here, soldier."_

" _You don't have to listen to him forever." Dick disappeared up the stairs, she watched as he closed the hidden door behind the Grandfather clock with a soft click before she turned to attend to her Hero._

That was a year ago.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice hoarse and raspy. It hurts to speak.

"Alfred called me. I called Jason...we came to get you. To save you. Why didn't you call us?"

"I thought I could do it alone." She says, looking down at her bandaged hands. Her tears never manage to fall before she blinks them away rapidly. "I thought I could save him..."

"Well you were fucking wrong." Jason growls from the doorway, shoving his hands into his leather jacket as he makes his way from the door to the end of her bed. "You think because you're his new favorite that you're stronger than us? He killed me, Robin." Malice drips off of every syllable he pointedly interjects. "He could have killed the both of you – who knows how long it's going to take for Bruce to recover from his injuries. Are you _happy?_ "

"Jason."

"Don't ' _Jason_ ' me, _Dick_." His attention snaps back to Carrie, "You're his new Robin, while the ones before you all wised up, and moved on. His _crusade_ is going to get him killed – it nearly did! But you did _your best!_ You followed Bruce's instructions to a T. You did such a great job – well guess what, _Girl Wonder?_ Batman's way doesn't _work,_ and now there's a maniac out there who knows _exactly who Batman is._ We're _fucked!_ What did you think was going to happen _Robin?_ " He spits venomously.

Dick's fist collides with Jason's jaw the second the words were out of his mouth. He gets in another before he's is able to react, always a second too slow against his older brother. "Did you do any different?" He shouts, kicking him in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the wall. "How _dare_ you speak to her that way. You know what it's like – you know how it feels. How being Robin _makes you feel._ " His strong fingers dig into the designer leather jacket. "You went after the Joker alone once, Jason, and it got you killed." He spins him around, a hand on the back of his neck. "It wasn't your fault." He says softly - so only Jason can hear, "And it isn't hers either." He shoves him forward so they're facing Carrie, "Apologize to her."

Jason's face is scarlet with embarrassment, anger, whatever it is – he's huffing and puffing like mean ol' wolf he is. Their eyes meet, "I'm sorry."

"I-I forgive you..." Carrie says, their gaze holding. "I...I've caused you all so much trouble..."

"You didn't do anything, you didn't cause this." Dick lets go of Jason with a soft shove. "I'll tell Alfred you're awake. He'll make you something to eat." He hesitates, like there's something else he wants to say but he thinks better of it and leaves instead.

Jason tugs at his jacket, making sure it isn't creased or damaged. "Dick." He curses. He sheepishly turns back to Carrie, his blue eyes capture hers in his intense stare just for a second before he looks down at his feet, "I am sorry." He reaffirms, "Alfred called us just after your comm went dead. We came as quickly as we could but we were still too late..I scoured the entire hospital looking for him, the Joker. I was going to fucking kill him, Carrie. I wanted to watch the life drain out of his face." He sounds ashamed as he clenches his hands into fists. He's practically vibrating with anger. "But he was already gone."

There's an itch starting to develop under Carrie's skin. It feels like there's a current running through her as she watches him speak, watches the emotions contort his face. Her thighs clamp together and she drops her gaze, letting her hair fall into her eyes. "I don't...I don't want to talk about it...I'm tired..."

"Oh, right...I'll let you rest. I'll make sure uh, Alfred is getting you something to eat...I'll try and swipe you a cookie or something." He winks at her, but she can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'll see you later, Carrie." He says before slipping out of the room.

"Ya..."

The itch is more intense than before. She wants to scratch at it, wants to ease the urge but she knows that it isn't a physical itch. As she lays her head down on the pillow she's there again. Strapped to a metal table, injected with something strange. Her body exploding in pleasurable sensations. Every stroke of her skin was practically orgasmic. " _Please. Mr. Jay, please fuck me."_ Her body twitches as his voice echoes in her mind, " _Where? Where do you want me to put my cock?"_

A knock startles her and she opens her eyes, pulling the blankets up around her body. "Miss Kelley?" Alfred's voice comes through the door, "Are you decent?"

"Uh, yes, Alfred, you can come in."

Alfred opens the door and pushes in a cart of food. It smells amazing as he guides it next to the bed and pulls the lid off of the platter. Breakfast food; eggs, waffles, bacon and sausage, biscuits and gravy, and a whole pitcher of juice. "You've been unconscious for over a day, you must be famished." As he said it, she realized how hungry is really is. Her stomach growls and aches.

"Yeah, you're right…" She says sheepishly, reaching for a piece of bacon. "I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble, Alfred." She whispers, the tears finally streaking down her face, dripping off her chin and dampening the comforter tucked around her. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know, Miss Kelley. You do not need to apologize, however I accept it and forgive you." He smiles at her and pours her a cup of tea. "Let this warm up your belly. Then you should sleep more, your body needs rest."

"How...how is Bruce?"

Alfred's eyes say it all. "He's still recovering." He left it at that. "Get some rest, Miss Kelley." He bows politely and closes the door behind him. Carrie devours her food. Alfred's cooking was better than anything she'd ever tasted in her life. Another perk of living at Wayne manor.

 _Once she had decided to become Robin, once she had learned of Batman's real identity, she spent less and less time at her parent's apartment and more here, at the Manor, with reclusive Bruce Wayne. He was once a billionaire playboy, now? He's a weathered, grumpy man on the twilight of his prime. He sulks around the Manor, oftentimes with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He'd fooled everyone when he was younger, drinking only champagne that actually turned out to be ginger ale. Now there are nights where he drinks himself to sleep only to wake up screaming with night terrors._

 _Carrie had gone to him every time. The first time had terrified her. Hearing him scream like that, she'd never heard him in any kind of pain before. She had sprinted up the stairs and thrown the door open, only to find him tangled in his sheets, glistening with sweat. "Bruce?" She'd asked, stepping closer to the bed. When he didn't respond she crossed the room with a quickness and knelt on the floor next to his bed. At first she just holds his hand. Rubbing her thumb over the inside of his wrist. "It's okay, Batman." She says softly, getting up to crawl into his bed. "Robin is here and I'll never leave you." She curled around his body, spooning his hulking mass. It calmed him down, his body relaxing against her._

 _She didn't remember falling asleep. She woke up in her own bed the next morning, causing her to wonder if the night before had been a dream. Bruce never said anything of it, but the next time his screams woke her it confirmed her suspicion. Silently she slips out of her bed and hurries to his room. He's thrashing around, sobbing in his sleep, "Damian..." He whimpers. Carrie's heart aches as she pulls his sheets off of him and replaces them with a blanket. She slides under it next to him and scoots closer. She curls her fingers around his soft black hair, toying with it gently._

 _After a few moments of this he relaxes and lets out a sigh. She doesn't move, continuing to play with his hair softly and take in his warmth. His skin smells like sweat as she presses her face against his back._

 _Unconsciousness envelopes her, although she's awoken soon thereafter as Bruce's hulking body turns over. Is he still asleep? She tenses next to him, hoping he doesn't kick her out. To her surprise he does the opposite of that, gently inching closer. He slides his arms around her, pulling her closer. Carrie brings her knees up to her chest so his body shrouds her. He immediately curls around her, his chin resting on the top of her head._

 _After awhile of laying with him in silence she falls asleep again. Cradled gently against The Dark Knight's chest, she can hear the steady heartbeat through his scarred, muscular chest._

 _In the morning she once again awakens in her own bed. She can vaguely remembers Bruce scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to bed. She can feel the phantom warmth of his lips on her forehead._

The ever-present itch brings her out of her trip down memory lane. She neatly stacks her used dish and silverware on the tray. Carrie pulls herself out of bed and sluggishly crosses to the attached bathroom. She doesn't even look in the mirror as she strips off her clothes, leaving them littered across the floor. She steps into the shower, turning it on and getting blasted in the face with freezing water.

That certainly wakes her up. She hisses as the water slowly warms. A satisfying shiver running down her spine. She moans in content as she turns, letting the water coat her entire body before standing with her back facing the facet, letting the water cascade down her bruised, muscular body. Everything aches but the water helps. It stings in places where the skin is broken but otherwise it feels magnificent.

Under the hot water the itch spreads. Her skin is overly sensitive as she lathers soap evenly across her torso. Carrie trembles as she runs her hands up her ribs and cups her breasts. She runs her thumbs over her erect nipples, whining as she teases them. The soap makes her hands slippery and it just heightens everything as her touch glides over her skin fluidly. She sighs, leaning against the shower wall to support herself. She pinches her budding nipples between her fingers, rolling them between her thumbs and index fingers. The pleasure radiates down her body. "Fuck..." She shakes, arching her back off the wall. Her hands slide down her body and between her legs. She cups her sex, moaning as she presses all her fingers up to stimulate her clit. Swirling her fingers around her swollen bud she inhales sharply. Images from that night play in her mind. Mostly of Bruce, his wild eyes on her - straining against his restraints just to fuck her. The way he looked with her cunt in his mouth, while the Joker fucked her ass.

She sighs, turning to the spray to let the water rinse off the soap. Her arousal is practically painful. She grabs the showerhead, sliding down the shower wall until she's sitting on the tiled floor. Carrie switches the setting to a high velocity single-stream spray. She runs it over herself - across her shoulders, down her arms, across her chest - until she spreads her legs and the stream hits her clit. "Ahh," She moans, biting her lip and raising her hips just a little. She shakes under the spray, mewling in pleasure while her hips rock back and forth to get more stimulation. Her other hand busys itself, sliding down her body and across her thigh. She sighs again, bringing her fingers across her sex only to dip two fingers inside herself. Another moan as they enter; she can feel the hot tightness of her own vagina, pulsing slightly around her digits.

With the assault of the water against her sensitive folds it doesn't take long for the twist in her abdomen she knows her orgasm is coming. Her thighs quake as her back arches even more. "Fuck -" She whines, thrusting her hips up against the spray oh-so desperate to cum while she pumps her fingers in and out of herself. She curls them upwards and massages her clit from the inside along with the spray. Barely seconds later she erupts, moaning loudly with her release. Carrie's eyes droop closed but she doesn't stop, trudging through her orgasm only to reach the next. Her pussy gushes cum, though it's immediately washed down the drain. Still she doesn't cease, not until the laughter is bubbling up from her insides and bursts out of her. The over-stimulation of her clit has turned it ticklish. She stops, finally, turning off the showerhead and removing her fingers. She sits there on the tiled floor for awhile, catching her breath, before she stands and resumes cleaning herself.

Dick is filling in for Batman. Not for the first time. Damian isn't here this time to be Dick's Robin, though. He'd ordered Carrie to lay low during the hunt for the joker. She has to clear leaving the grounds with him beforehand, and she has to make sure to take a communicator with her.

"I'm not _twelve_."

"No, but you could be a target."

The hunt for the Joker was proving to be fruitless. He vanished, without a trace. He was gone before Red Hood and Nightwing had ever showed. He had left them to rot in cells, for who knows how long. Nevertheless the search continues, on top of keeping the rest of Gotham's riffraff in line. A hero's task is never easy.

Jason stays. Clearly on the hunt as well, but never alongside Dick; always alone. During the day he was quiet, sulky. He never left the manor for anything other than _business._ She's noticed he's been spending a lot of time in her general vicinity but he only ever engages with her if she speaks first.

"Are you actually reading that?" Carrie asks, standing in front of Jason who is lounging; sprawled out on a _very_ expensive chaise in the library.

 ** _"There open fanes and gaping graves_**

 ** _Yawn level with the luminous waves;_**

 ** _But not the riches there that lie_**

 ** _In each idol's diamond eye-_**

 ** _Not the gaily-jewelled dead_**

 ** _Tempt the waters from their bed;_**

 ** _For no ripples curl, alas!_**

 ** _Along that wilderness of glass-_**

 ** _No swellings tell that winds may be_**

 ** _Upon some far-off happier sea-_**

 ** _No heavings hint that winds have been_**

 ** _On seas less hideously serene."_**

"Oh wow, edgy." He rolls his eyes at her as she walks away, "Says she who spends her days crying into Shakespeare or fighting too many batbots in the sparring room." He sat up as he spoke, sneering after her.

"You know," She starts, turning around to face him again, "It's _really_ creepy how you're watching me all the time. Don't you

have anything better to be doing?"

"Dick asked me too." He shrugs, palms-up. "I'm actually babysitting you."

"Ha-ha."

"No, seriously. But...this isn't anything like _Babysitters Club._ "

"What? _What the fuck, you guys?_ " Carrie throws the book in her hand as hard as she can, it hits a shelf and causes three other books to fall on top of it in a heap on the floor. She yells in exacerbation and storms out of the library. Not before, however, turning back to Jason, "Please don't follow me. I want to be alone." He was already moving to stand up but he nods and settles back down in his seat. With nothing further to discuss, she leaves.

Boredom and anger aren't a healthy combination. Half of her days are spent exactly how Jason said; in the VR training dome, fighting off an overwhelming amount of villains at once. But the itch never goes away. It grows harder and harder to resist the urge to go back. But even if she does, where is he?

No one had any luck locating him since what happened. That was the only thing keeping her from him. The only thing keeping her from crawling back to him on all fours; happy to let him use her however he saw fit.

Jason's ever presence is antagonizing to say the least. It takes two weeks of him hovering for her to finally snap. "I haven't let the estate in _six days_! Will you _ever_ stop hovering? It's one thing when you come with me when I leave; I understand and welcome it. But _come the fuck on,_ Jason, just leave me to wallow alone!"

"That's it right there." He says, pointing at her, "Wallowing." He rolls his eyes, "You gotta cut that shit out, it's pathetic. It makes me sad. Not a sympathetic kind of sad, more of a _get the fuck over yourself_ kind of sad."

"Get over it?" She growls, turning to snarl at him.

"No. _Get over yourself._ " He clarifies, "You're blaming yourself for what happened and reveling in it. Stop it. This is the Joker's fault, _and Bruce's_ for not killing him every Goddamn time he's had the chance." Jason puts his hands on her shoulders, catching her eye, "Don't blame yourself for this, Carrie. You're giving yourself too much credit."

"Is that your attempt to cheer me up?" She asks incredulously.

"Not at all. I don't give a shit if you feel better, but watching you torture yourself like I did when he killed me is infuriating. Neither of us brought on what was done to us. Stop acting all pathetic all the time."

Even though he's being a complete and total asshole, Jason's speech surprisingly _does_ make her feel better. "You're an ass."

"You don't pick your family." He retorts, letting his hands fall from her shoulders. He steps away, looking down at her for a moment. "Might as well make the best of it. Wanna fight?"

Carrie stares at him for a moment, unsure if he meant it. When he doesn't stand down she grins. "Actually, yes."

Together they walk down to the VR room, pausing just outside as Carrie stares at the glass tubes holding their costumes. "Dress up?"

Jason shakes his head with a snort, "Naw, let's just get on with it." He slips out of his shoes and shirt, tossing them aside, Carrie mirrors him, stripping down to a sports bra and her leggings. They step into the dome together. "Load The Narrows," Jason says in a loud, clear voice so the computer registers. Carrie watches silently as the dingy apartment buildings and filthy streets materialize around them.

"Any particular reason who chose this setting?" Carrie inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"It makes me angry." Jason responds a second before launching himself at her, successfully taking her by surprise.

"Jason!" She shouts as he takes her down. She wiggles out of his arms and rolls away, springing to her feet just as he comes at her again. She avoids, jumping out of his reach. Carrie retreats; using the environment around her to her advantage she slips down an alley between two computer generated buildings. Nanotech from the Wayne Tech lab to make the walls solid.

"Hiding?" Jason quips.

"No." She responds, drawing his attention to the alley before clambering up a fire escape as quietly as she can. She climbs to the roof, using this as a vantage point to watch him stalk down the alley after her; hunting her with slow, quiet steps, only to pop out on another street without realizing she'd gone up; not through. She watches him turn his back on her, entering another alley to keep up the search. She jumps to the adjacent building to keep eyes on him, keeping her body low so he doesn't immediately see her if he looks up.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." He teases in a musical call. She stands, backing up a few feet to take a running start. Carrie jumps at the edge of the roof, landing on the fire-escape of the adjacent building. Jason turns to look, startled by the echo of the metal fixture.

"If you insist," She says coyly, throwing herself over the metal safety rail to drop down on his head.

Jason topples to the ground, Carrie on top of him, successfully getting him in a hold before he can manage to counter. "You've improved," He says with some strain with her forearm against his windpipe.

"As you've already pointed out, I train a lot. Every day, so I would sure hope so." She loosens her grip on him. Big mistake.

"Never assume the fight is over." He scolds, sounding like a teacher. He stands up, offering her his hand. She narrows her eyes, refusing it while she gets up on her own. Jason pouts for a second before jumping into action. He sweeps her legs out from under her. She tumbles to the ground, rolling out of the way just as Jason brings his foot down where her body had been. She kip-ups to her feet, she's behind him now and steps quickly to grab him for another hold. His years of training over her pays off as he spins and shoves her with all his strength. Carrie impacts against the brick alley wall; knocking the wind out of her. She slides down the wall and collapses at his feet while she gasps to force air into her lungs. "I'm a little harder than that to beat, Carrie." He chuckles, offering his hand again. "Do you yield?"

After a few seconds of wheezing she looks up at him in annoyance. Without responding, she takes his offered hand and allows him to help her to her feet. Jason looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to admit defeat. She uses the hand in his to twist his up against his back. She kicks her foot between his and spins them - shoving him against the wall and grabbing him by his hair, wrenching his head back, "Never assume the fight is over." She growls in his ear, holding him there with her body and legs. She slips her hand out of his silky locks and slides her hand over his shoulder, and around his neck. She grips it, cutting off his breath and as she grins against his back. "Do you yield?" She echoes him again. With no response, she tightens her grip. He hisses through his teeth, annoyed that he'd allowed her to get the upper hand. There's no way he can get any leverage over her now.

"Yes," He grunts, "I yield." The hologram melts away, taking the nanobats with it. Carrie releases her hold on Jason, stepping out of arm's reach. "You won, I won't try to beat you." Carrie raises her eyebrows, not having realized how big a gap she'd put between them. He shrugs and turns to leave, Carrie follows him out of the training dome, both seemingly in better spirits. "I'm gonna hose off," He says - heading to the Batcave's showers as she mounts the stairs.

The trip to the Cave's shower is a short one. He strips as the door slides closed behind him; his pants are stuck against his skin with sweat. With minor annoyance he struggles out of them. After he peels his clothes off, he heads into the shower. Staying at the manor is strange now that he's older, and very over being Robin. His bedroom was mostly left untouched, other Alfred coming in every now and then to dust. After he was brought back to life by Talia Al G'hul, he'd stumbled to find some sort of meaning, some sort of _reason_ to be brought back to life. Going back to Gotham was off the table, it was too soon anyway.

Everything he'd been up to in the last five years comes rushing back. It's hard not to think about it in the quiet of the shower. He sighs and tilts his head back, rinsing shampoo out of it. Training with Durca, starting the Outlaws; teaming up with Kori and Roy had given him a new perspective, he'd finally gotten the guts to come back to Gotham. To show Bruce he was alive. Of course, he'd do it _his way._ Bruce didn't like Jason's homecoming very much. Not with all the gun violence, and drama, and _death_. He was all anger and showmanship then. He'd - well, _mellowed_ isn't really the right word for it. Calm, patience; these are things that you have to teach yourself. Beat into yourself. These are learned through trial and tribulation.

Being back in the manor; in the thick of it; it's agonizing. Hard being with his family, hard being in Gotham, hard holding it together for Carrie - hard holding it together for himself. He wants to _scream_ at Bruce, beat Dick's _perfect_ ass, and kill the Joker. But he isn't able to do any of these things, and it's _driving him mad_.

For Carrie masturbating in the shower is a twice daily occurrence. The itch is ever present and no amount of stimuli seems or relief eases it. She needs more of the drug the Joker gave her. She needs his hands on her - his cock inside her. She closes her eyes as she slides down the shower wall, shower head in-hand. She rocks her hips against the spray, mewling as she sucks on the fingers of her free hand. She's practically _there_ again. Filled to the brim with her villain and her hero; fucking the daylights out of her while she screams for more. The hot stream against her clit pushes her over and she bites down on her digits, holding her mouth closes as she giggles through her orgasm. She doesn't stop immediately, only once she bursts out in laughter does she drop the showerhead and lazily reach up to turn off the spray. She sits in the steamy shower for a moment longer while she catches her breath, before standing to get dressed. It's practically routine now.

She wanders in the general direction of the kitchen. There's still so much of the manor she hasn't explored. Many rooms were locked, and even more had hidden entrances. She's yet to get a total count of rooms but so far she was at 74. The corridor she's in now is lined with portraits of the Wayne family. Under each of the large frames there's a display with something of theirs; something they cherished. Bruce's parents' had a pearl necklace, and a stethoscope. She lingers on the painting of Martha Wayne. A dignified looking red haired woman. Bruce's face resembles hers in just the softest of ways, giving him a beauty his father; Thomas, didn't possess. She moves on away from the paintings, she's found herself looking up at her; at Martha, many times as of late. Unsure why, but the large portrait of Bruce's mother gives her comfort.

Alfred is getting ready to depart when Carrie gets to the kitchen. "Going somewhere?" She asks, quirking her head to the side.

"I just have errands to do." He says, putting the last dish in the rack and rolling down his sleeves. He pulls his jacket on and smooths it down against his chest. "Just a short trip, mind you. Is there anything I can get for you while I am out?"

"Would you like company?" She asks, "I'm getting pretty stir-crazy, even if I just stay in the car...getting off the grounds would be nice."

"Oh, well yes, absolutely, Miss Carrie, I would very much enjoy your company." He pulls on his pristine, tailor-made, powder white gloves and slips them onto his fingers as if they were a second skin. "I'll bring the car 'round, ma'am." He gives her a large, genuine smile that warms her heart. No one has ever made her feel as loved and accepted as the way Alfred has. Maybe...not at _first_. Carrie chuckles at the thought; the first night she'd carried Bruce Wayne to the Batmobile. She follows him out the kitchen door; it's much closer to the garage. She waits, as is instructed, by the stoop. A few moments later, he stops in front of her in the Rolls Royce. A grin spreads across her face while Alfred gets out and comes around, he opens the door for her and gives her a polite bow, "Your car, ma'am."

She laughs, taking his offered hand and getting in the car. "You don't have to go all out for my sake," She says, sliding into the back seat. He closes the door behind her and a second later he positions himself behind the wheel.

"On the contrary," He says, "That is _exactly why I must_." He adjusts the rearview mirror and smiles at her, "Don't forget your seatbelt Miss Kelley." Obediently she snaps it into place, not like she wasn't going to in the first place…

The second they were off the property her phone chimes. She doesn't get many texts outside of her mother "checking in" which is just what she likes to call asking for money. Carrie was glad for Bruce allowing her to stay in the manor, and of course he'd given her her own expense card (not that she ever really used it.) However the fact that her mother just _assumed_ he was giving her money was irritating. As if the fact that he is graciously giving her an allowance wasn't enough, her mother just decides that she has some kind of claim to that money. However this text isn't from her mother. It isn't from anyone, the text field for the name and number are both blank. In the body of the message was one single emoji; the Joker Card.

All the muscles in her body tense. For a few seconds ice runs through her veins as her heart practically stops. Another comes immediately after she'd opened the first. More emojis; a car and two eyes. The sides of her vision darkens. She sits there, staring at her phone in shock for longer than she should've. Only Alfred saying her name is able to pull her out of it, "Miss Kelley?"

"Y-Yes, Alfred?"

"I was just saying; Our agenda today is to pick up a parcel for Master Bruce, and drop off said parcel at Wayne Tower for Lucious Fox. After that I thought we could stop for a spot of tea. before doing any errands that you would like to include? If there are any?"

"There's this bakery on 11th and Hero Avenue," She says, "I'd like to get a few pastries, and they have tea so, two birds?" She shrugs, "Other than that, maybe Target? I'd like to get some toiletries and socks."

"That sounds perfectly acceptable to me, ma'am. On our way back we'll make a few stops for grocery items; the butcher, the farmer's market, etcetera."

Their first stop is the Gotham Shipyard. Carrie can't hide her suspicion and curiosity, "Alfred, what exactly are we doing here?" She wonders.

Like I said before, ma'am, Master Wayne needs us to deliver a parcel. It just came in on a ship."

"Where was this ship from?"

"Away." Alfred says, smiling at her in the rear-view mirror.

"What is it?"

"Something that will surely help Master Bruce get better." He says, opening the door and stepping out. "I will be back momentarily, please do stay in the vehicle, Miss Carrie."

Carrie does as she's asked, though she takes off her seatbelt and keeps her hand hovering on the door handle; ready to spring at any moment. She quickly realizes backup isn't required and she settles into her seat as Alfred shakes hands with a man carrying a briefcase. He isn't menacing at all, and if Alfred had set this up she's sure it's legit. Alfred is handed the case and they part ways. She smiles and waves to him as he turns back to the car. He smiles at her as he returns to the driver's seat and sets the case in the seat next to him.

"You're not going to tell me what's in the case, are you?" She asks, leaning over the dividing window.

"That is correct, Miss Kelley." Carrie just rolls her eyes and slumps back into the comfortable, soft leather seats and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Do you need any help once we reach Wayne Tech?"

"No, but thank you. Once I have delivered it to Mr. Fox we will go get tea and head out for our errands." He says cheerfully, "I'll make sure to be quick so you aren't waiting in the car too long, though I will leave the air running."

She smiles, "Thank you, Alfred." Carrie's phone chimes, startling her. She slowly pulls it out of her pocket, One new voicemail, and one unread message, both from who she assumes is the Joker. Her heart is racing as opens the text message. Another stream of emojis. When she hadn't responded whoever it was called her, and left a message. But she's sure her phone didn't ring. She pulls down the notification bar and taps on the voicemail alert. Her phone dials out as she holds it up to her ear.

"You have [1] new voicemail! Press one to listen." _Beep_. The menu voice continues, "Voicemail received at 2:43PM from -" there is silence for a few seconds; nothing where a name or phone number would have been repeated. _Beep_ ; the message plays.

"Girl Woooonder~" The Joker purrs into her ear, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. "You're not ignoring me now, are you, birdy?" He quips, but there's no laughter. Not even a giggle. "Not very wise, we made a deal. I will have you _eventually_. I'm sure you're _aching_ for me." His voice drops an octave, "Don't you want it, little bird?" He hums, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "I can make it stop. All you have to do is come and get it. Tell me when you decide." The voicemail ends.

"Press 3 to delete. Press 7 to save." _Beep_. She hangs up.

Her heart is trying to escape her body. Sledgehammering away against her ribs. The itch had turned into a burn. An aching fire igniting across her skin. Panic and arousal have her overwhelmed and conflicted. She knows what the right thing to do here is; she knows what she, as a hero, should do. She knew what Batman would do; what he would want her to do. But...she doesn't do _any_ of that. Carrie opens the text again, typing out a message before deciding better of it. Instead, she responds in kind to his, an emoji; a Robin. Immediately she receives a geotag.

"Miss Kelley?"

Carrie practically jumps out of her skin as Alfred breaks the silence, "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost, ma'am."

"I'm fine, Alfred. Just...worrying about Bruce. I really hope this helps him." That lie came out too easy.

"Ahh, yes, I hope so as well." It isn't much farther to Wayne Tower, but every minute dragged on endlessly as she torments herself trying to make a choice; trying to talk herself out of crawling into the Joker's lap. But at this point, it isn't possible. She gets out of the car when Alfred does and stretches her arms over her head.

"I'm just going to run over to the deli down the block, for a soda. You can take the keys with you, I'll just wait outside. Being cooped up in the car isn't any better than being cooped up in the manor."

He looks conflicted about letting her wander off on her own, but he says nothing of it. He nods as he closes the door, case in-hand. "Don't take too long, Miss Kelley." He says, waving her off. _Oh Alfred,_ she thinks, _I'm so sorry to do this._ But she doesn't have any choice in the matter; she isn't in control anymore. Once she's out of eyesight of Wayne Tower she turns down the first street she comes across. She starts weaving through the streets in an unorthodox way to get to her destination. Twisting through side streets and down back alleys. She doesn't think anyone is following her, I mean who would be? But she wants to be careful nonetheless. Which actually happens to be good thinking on her part because Jason is hot on her heels. He almost loses her twice but it doesn't take much to pick up the trail again. He stalks her through the city, sticking to roof tops and fire escapes. He slips down to ground-level and watches her disappear into another alley. His earpiece comes alive as he jogs across the street to follow her.

"Carrie is missing." It's Dick.

"No she isn't, I've got eyes on her."

"She skipped out of Alfred. That isn't like her at all, where are you?"

"Yeah I know, I watched her do it."

"You've been following them?"

"Alfred asked me, I went to quietly oversee the pick up and delivery. I was about to leave when she just goes off on her own."

"You didn't answer my other question; where are you?"

"Oddly enough it looks like she's going into the suburbs."

"What? Don't her parents live in the narrows?"

"I guess she isn't going to go visit dear old mom and dad."

"Then where is she going? I can't get a lock on her phone, something is keeping me from tracking it. What is going on?"

"I don't know, Dick, and I won't until she gets whereever she is going. Chill."

"Don't tell me to chill, Jason. Report in when she does."

"10-4."

Following her in the suburbs is a lot harder; not a lot of places for him to hide so he has to hang back. People would hear him running across their roofs in these boots; and someone is sure to see him either way. Once she's out of his sight he has to jog to keep up so he doesn't miss her next turn.

In the middle of this older neighborhood there's a rundown church that sits wasting away in the middle of a park. There's an outcropping of trees and a chain-linked fence separating it from the manicured lawn of the neighborhood communal park. Part of the fence had been peeled back to create enough space for an adult to squeeze through. He sees it just in time to watch Carrie squeeze herself through the huge crooked doors affixed to the overshadowing stone archway.

Jason dives across the street and scrambles up a tree, climbing onto the roof to peek through a large hole in the shingles. It's just big enough to slip through; he drops down onto a stone landing and stays crouched. He crawls to look out over the church's innards. No one to be seen. Shit. Where had she gone? Taking in the condition of the church, he figures three possible places she could have disappeared into. He stands and jumps down from the balcony above. Behind the organ on the stage is a door, one he wouldn't have caught if it weren't for his previous vantage point. To either side of the stage are two more doors. He mounts the stage, trying to tread lightly over the creaking floorboards. The door behind the organ opens with ease to a downward staircase into the church's underbelly; stone steps lead down into a dark basement. He's glad his sunglasses double as night vision, because of course they do. He descends without further hesitation, quickling plunging himself into darkness as he closes the door behind him. At the bottom of the stairs is a small room leading into a corridor. He follows it until he finds another door, slightly ajar. He pushes his glasses up to the top of his head as he nears; there's light trickling out from around the edges. A sound that haults his very breath paralyses him where he stands - it pierces the air and echoes off the stone around him; laughter. An unmistakable laughter reverberates through the church's basement, making his skin crawl. Why? Why did Carrie come here? It takes all of Jason's willpower not to burst through that door and kill the Joker where he stands.

"Oh, little bird, I'm so happy you came to see me." The Joker is saying as Jason approaches, "I knew you couldn't resist Daddy Jay~"

"Please stop referring to yourself in the third person, I wouldn't be here if I had another choice, would I?" She sneers, "What do you want?"

"Oh come now, don't play coy with me. You know exactly why I summoned you here - and here you are!" He bursts out laughing, "You came because you _want it_. It's just us here now, girlie, no need to _lie_." He laughs causing Jason's spine to crawl. "You came because I have something you oh-so desperately _need_." His voice gets lower, Jason's finally in a position where he can see them properly while still shrouded in shadow; they can't see him through the crack in the door - not that they'd ever expect him to be there. The Joker is circling Carrie like a vulture, looking just as hungry. "What is it that you want, Robin?" He asks, coming to a stop once they're face-to-face. He tilts her head back with a single, knuckle against the underside of her chin; forcing her to look him in the eye. " _Tell me_."

"You already know…"

" _ **Tell me**_." He growls, threateningly.

"That...stuff." She says softly, "The stuff you injected me with. I _need_ it." She shakes her head out of his grasp, taking a step away from him. "My skin is on fire, my whole body is on fire! It's agonizing." She actually looks him in the eye now, without being forced, which startles him to silence for a moment. Very few people have the courage, no - the gall to look him directly in the eye. "Please, I just want this feeling to go away." She pleads, "I just want it to stop."

"Oh, I know, little bird. That's how I _knew_ you'd come back." He sneers, "I knew you'd get away from your family to come to me. Forsake them, trick them - just to come sit on my lap." He closes the space between them and wraps an arm around her waist, drawing them hip-to-hip.

"No for _you_." She snaps, putting her hand on his shoulders to try and hold him at an arm's length. "Don't twist my words; my intentions, don't make wild assumptions. Either give me the _fucking drug_ or tell me how to flush it from my system!"

The Joker cackles, squeezing her painfully against him now, crushing her arms against his chest. "What position are you in where you think you can make demands, Robin? What makes you think I'll even let you out of here _alive_?" His tone darkens as he snakes his hand up, into her hair and gives it a hard tug; jerking her head back to expose her neck. He releases her waist and dips his fingers into the pocket of his blazer. He reveals a syringe, putting it up to his mouth, he tugs off the plastic protective cap with his teeth, "This is what you want, isn't it?" He coos, showing her the needle.

Jason squints in the darkness, trying to focus on the syringe. Toxic green and practically full. He's ready to pounce to stop him before he plunges it into her neck.

" _Yes_." The single word makes him deflate. He slinks back into the shadows - not stopping until his back hits the wall behind him. He doesn't take his eyes off them for a second. Watching the Joker plunge the needle into her neck happens in slow motion. Once he injects her with the entire vial he tosses it aside, and snakes his arm around her once again. For good reason. Barely a minute goes by before she sags against his grip. "Fuck…" She exhales breathlessly.

The first time was nothing compare to this; this time it was not only filling her with pleasure but also relieving the pain she'd been in for weeks. She moans as her body is freed from the torture.

"That's it, girl wonder, let it spread." He purrs as he scoops her up in his arms as if he's cradling a baby. He's surprisingly gentle with her as he carries her out of the room, "Come now...Daddy will make it all better, little bird."

Jason watches as they disappear down a hallway. He doesn't follow them immediately, unwilling to give up his place in the shadows. His comm piece comes alive, startling him enough to physically react.

"Status report." Shit, what is he supposed to say? He can't just tell Dick about this, at least not at this very second. "Jason?"

"I lost her," He blurts, "Line of vision broke, I can't see her anymore."

"Shit."

"She's a big girl, Dick, after fighting her in VR I realized just how capable she is. She's probably spotted me or something, she's clever, she knows how to lose a tail." The easier it gets to lie to Dick the worse he feels. Dick isn't the problem, and he never has been. He's just the Golden Boy, or, was. Before Damian.

"So it only took her whooping your ass? I saw the playback."

"I'm coming back to the cave." Jason says without comment.

"10-4, see you."

It takes Jason awhile to move. It isn't until he can hear Carrie's laughter does he get up. He cautiously steps into the lit room, hating to give up his hiding spot. The coast is clear as he makes his way towards Carrie's voice. This time, the door is closed. But he can hear her on the other side. He can hear the Joker, too. "Is this what you want?" He purrs, "Daddy Jay's cock?"

"Yes," Carrie moans desperately, "Please."

"Say it."

"Please, Daddy Jay, I want your cock."

Jason can't take any more of this. Barging in would only lead to a fight, and he isn't sure which side Carrie would choose in her current condition. He flees the scene, heading straight back to Wayne Manor to research any possible drug this could be, and how to get it out of her system. He hurries away from the door just in time with Carrie crying out as the Joker fucks her.

Her quivering sex explodes with sensation as his turgid cock slams home. Their hips slap together rhythmically as he fucks her hard from behind. His hands envelope her wrists, pulling her arms behind her to make her arch her back more, the sound of skin-against-skin is practically tangible in the silent room. He has her right up against the stone wall, they're in an old office - probably the workspace of an bishop or whatever. The stone is cold and rough, but the uncomfortableness of the wall is entirely overwhelmed by the pleasure the reverberates inside her body. "Is this what you wanted, isn't it, girl?" The Joker leans in and bites her ear, tugging on it with his teeth. He releases it, licking the side of her lobe and breathing hotly in her ear. "You came back to me because you want it oh-so bad," He giggles, slowing his hips. He inches in and out of her, humming in a sing-song tone. He slowly picks up the speed of his thrusts, gliding in and out of her wet cunt like it was made for him. Well, he has been the only one to fuck her _so_ -

He releases her arms, dropping them to lean in and slide his hands under her shirt. Upwards they climb, both hands grabbing the top of her bra and pulling it down - revealing her breasts. His cold fingers tweak her nipples, tugging them forward and down - causing her to reflexively jerk back against his dick. He groans low in his throat and licks his lips, brushing them against the back of her neck.

"You're all mine, birdy."

Jason goes to Fox by himself. He describes what he saw, vaguely and keeping the _who_ out of it. "Some sort of weaponized desire," He says leaning against Fox's desk, he tips his head back and looks up at the ceiling as he recounts the events, again, as vague as possible. He angrily shoves his hands in his pockets, "They just stop being themselves and it's addictive, it appears, incredibly so."

"Sounds like a new kind of date rape drug," Fox says, incredulous.

"Let's hope it never gets into civilian hands. They're more nefarious as a collective than any one villain alone." Jason sighs, ever the pessimist, "Is there anything in your databases?"

"I'm not sure why Wayne Enterprises would have such a thing documented." They share a look and he sighs, "I cannot be sure without a sample."

"Do you need it to be a sample of the drug, or would a blood sample of someone who has been dosed suffice?""

"I'm not sure what I would be looking for a in a blood sample, but it's a start. However a sample of the drug itself would be ideal." Jason pushes himself off the desk - his hands remain as fists in his pockets. Looks like he has to figure out how to get a sample. _I have to go back to the Church._ He thinks, grabbing his red motorcycle helmet. "I'll get you a sample. Please don't mention this to anyone, I have everything handled." Fox looks at him doubtingly but he doesn't say anything to that effect. "I'll be here if you need me." He says, waving Jason out of his lab. "Now get out of my hair so I can continue working on the project for Mr. Wayne."

"How is it coming?"

"Slowly. But it will be ready soon enough, Mr. Wayne will be alright, he has a lot of very concerned people working towards getting him back to his peak health."

"Him staying that way is what I'm worried about, Fox." Jason shakes his head as he puts his hand on the door, holding it slightly ajar, "Thank you." He doesn't wait around for validation of his gratitude.

" _Jason_ ," Dick says angrily. "Report. I thought you said you were on your way back to the Manor." Dick sounds worried through the comm. "Did you pick up Carrie's trail again?"

"No, Dick, I have other matters in my life currently. You're not my keeper and I'm not Carrie's."

"But we are family, Jason."

"Yeah, so everyone keeps saying."

"If you didn't believe that you wouldn't have come to save Bruce and Carrie."

"I did it to get a chance at the Joker. Bruce means little to me."

"But Carrie does?"

"Shut it, Greyson." Jason yanks out his earpiece and shoves it in his pocket as he straddles his bike. What to do now? Carrie might be exactly where he left her, should he wait until night to go back? This is fucking impossible. How did it end up like this? Why is the Joker targeting Carrie, out of all of them? Maybe he's bored. He already fucked with everyone else, clearly it's her turn. No, that's not entirely it - it can't be. This feels different. Why? He seems...if anything, crazier. Unhinged, completely without reason nor a care in the world. What's different? What kept him in check before? What's changed? "Oh...fuck- No way," pinches the bridge of his nose as it dawns on him. He angrily yanks the comm from his pocket. He jams it in his ear and tugs on his helmet, revving the engine. "Dick."

"I'm here."

"Where can I find Harley?"

"Quinn?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Why?"

"Can you just tell me and trust that it is for an important reason?"

"You can't just tell me?"

"No." It's quiet for a second, "Look- I'll figure it out -"

"I just sent it to your GPS."

"Thank you."

"Wow, never thought I'd hear that from you again."

"Don't push it, and don't get used to it."

Harleen Quinzel had kept her residence within Gotham. A swanky little loft on Burnside. He can her hear come to the door when he knocks. "Whatta'ya want, pretty boy?" She says without touching the door. "I'm retired."

"I need your help."

"With?"

"Can you _please_ open the door?"

"Oh _wow_ , Jason Todd sayin' 'Please.' This is a rare occasion," She swings the door open, leaning against the frame. She's dressed in a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that say COMFY BITCH down the leg. "What can I do for'ya, Red?" She asks, her northeastern accent particularly thick.

"It's about Him."

"Well thanks for stoppin' by-" Harley says, shutting the door.

"Wait!" Jason shoves his foot in the way, "It's about something he's doing, now, to Carrie - er - Robin, the new one."

"That little girl?"

"She'd take offense to that."

Harley sighs and opens the door, "Ya got ten minutes."

"Don't repeat any of this. To anyone. For Carrie's sake."

"Haven't you heard of doctor/patient confidentiality?" Jason rolls his eyes, but he knows she means it. He runs his hands through his hair and launches into his tale. Starting when he'd gotten the call from Dick that Bruce and Carrie were in danger. She leads him into the kitchen as he speaks, regaling his thirst for the Joker's blood and his manic hunt for him. While he talks she fixes them some tea, which he ignores in favor of speaking. Finally he gets to today. He tells her about following Carrie into the Church, the drug, the sex. Harley has her hand over her mouth by the time he's finished. He wraps his hands around the mug, not with intent to drink it, just to hold something warm.

"I need your help. For Carrie."

"You love her, don't'cha, Red?"

"She's family."

"They ain't ya family, we both know that, hon. Yer different from them, ya got blood lust, for Mistah Jay, we have that in common ya'know."

"Do you know what the drug is?"

"Yes, I do."

"How does it work?"

"It's a lot like the Gas. Well, at least the kind he gives to his Goons. Including me. It's an addictive compound that induces amusement and euphoria. This drug is very similar in makeup but with slightly different results. Pleasure in the place of amusement, he created it to use it on me. I was quickly wisin' up and he didn't like that. He made it to keep me in control, to keep me under his thumb."

"How did you get away? Get it off the drug"

"Ivy helped me."

"She has an herbal remedy?" He asks sarcastically.

" _No_ , but she's a doctah, like me, _assclown_." She sets her tea on the kitchen counter and sighs, "She figured out a way to counteract the drug. It doesn't just go away, the longer you go without it the harder it gets to resist and that feeling doesn't go away. At all. Not without this." She sighs, "But it hurt, and it took time. Kinda like rehab." Harley laughed at her own distasteful joke. "Step one, ya gotta separate her from the problem. Send her to spend time with another hero or something, someone who can keep her safe. Flushing her system is going to be Hell, you need someone who can keep her on course. Someone to keep her from relapsing." She sighs, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Ivy was all of the above for me, she really got me off'a that shit." She needs someone who she can rely on, a friend, someone who won't judge her - or try to sleep with her. She needs to take sex off the table until she feels better."

"How long will this take?"

"It took me six months."

" _Shit_."

"The longer ya wait, the longer it'll take."

"Yeah, I know. I know who to call, good thing I happen to be in her neighborhood. Thanks Harley."

"No problem, sugah, say hi to Dick for me." She says, waggling her eyebrows. Jason groans - very aware of their history, though he wishes he wasn't. Dick had spared no details in their encounter and by the end of it Jason just wanted to wash his ears out with soap. She agrees to get some of the, for lack of better word, antidote from Ivy. "This ain't us pallin' up, Red." She points in his face, her other fist resting firmly on her hip, "I'm doin' this for her - cause I was her. Well, I'm what he's doing to her now. He's grooming her," She sighs, turning back to the counter, to her tea. But she doesn't lift it, just stares at her reflecting on the liquid's surface. She wraps her fingers around it for comfort."

"If this is too much for you, you don't need to push yourself." Harley turns and looks at him in astonishment. "I just meant, you're still fresh out. It must be hard, shit I can't imagine. I don't want to push you to do anything that could make that process harder." He sits down at the island in the middle of her kitchen, finally taking a sip of his tea, he looks down at it in surprise, "This is actually really good."

"Not a tea drinker?"

"No, not really."

"That's surprisingly considerate of you." She smiles down at her hands, "It's alright, Red, I am a doctor after all." Her eyes meet her reflection before her vision blurs. She takes a deep breath and pulls herself together, "I want to help. In any way I can. If it gets to be too much for me, I'll let you know."

"I'll honor that." Jason assures her, finishing off his tea. "Mind if I come back again later? I don't want to overwhelm you, and what I'm doing right now is time sensitive."

"Of course, ya actually made me feel bettah." She looks up from her tea and meets his eyes, "Thanks, Red."

"It's no problem." He tucks his helmet under his arm and smiles back at her. "I feel the same way, we are both survivors of the Joker...I feel like I have to save her."

"I know the feeling. This isn't our fault, Jason." She says his name gently. She's changed so much since she'd been liberated from Him. She lives on Burnside because it offers protection, there are multiple heroes here on a regular basis. With their home team of Batgirl and Oracle - Black Canary pops in and out from time to time between touring, and now the reformed Harley Quinn. Heavily active on Instagram alongside Batgirl and Canary, who all frequently appear on each other's feeds. Jason follows at all of them.

"I gotta talk to Babs."

"Tell her I say 'hey'."

Dick greets Jason in the breezeway off the kitchen, "Have you been waiting for me?" Jason asks.

"Yes, any word on Carrie?"

On the drive home Jason decided to tell Dick. "I need you to let me talk without interrupting me for an extended period of time." Jason says bluntly, "Can you give me that?" Dick's eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to say something but immediately thinks better of it. He nods for his brother to continue. Jason crosses his arms and sighs. "I really should have got some of that tea from Harley."

"Tea?"

"Okay, just shut up for a minute." Jason roots around in the kitchen until he finds something sweet to shove in his mouth. This time it's chocolate cake.

"That's vegan. Alfred prefers that way more now even after Damian is gone. I saw him making it."

"I miss that stubborn brat." Jason says around a mouthful of cake. Emotion only showing in his eyes. He shoves in another forkful and waves for Dick to follow him. He goes to the sitting room where Bruce usually dominates - but only because it's the closest room to the kitchen. He sits down in an overstuffed chair and chews thoughtfully. "I lied over comm," He says, swallowing, "I followed Carrie until she reached her destination. I pursued." He licks the frosting off the end of his fork as he structures the sentences carefully in his mind. "She found the Joker." He says softly, "He has her, like, addicted to some kind of drug. I talked to Harley about it, and she knows how to help Carrie."

"How could you just leave her there with the Joker!?" Dick is freaking out.

"Because I wasn't sure if she would fight him, or _me_ right now." Jason says, looking Dick directly in the eyes, "I stayed long enough to make sure she isn't in any _mortal danger._ I can't give you details, Greyson, ya gotta just trust me, here." He pleads, "I spoke with Harley, I'm _certain_ Carrie isn't in danger."

"It's strange to hear this from you and Harley, of all people." Dick says, his brow furrowed as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He turns his back to Jason, and sighs heavily; his shoulders deflating. He shakes his head, "I assume you have a plan?" He asks, turning to look at him.

"Yes. It comes in a few parts. First, we have to relocate Carrie without isolating her. She needs to have something to focus on while going through the motions of getting clean. Jason shoves the rest of the cake in his mouth, chewing it while he ruminates. "Harley will provide the antidote that Ivy makes."

" _Ivy!?_ " Dick gasps.

"Yes, calm down. They wouldn't hurt Carrie, Dick, they're doctors - and women who have also faced victimhood and risen above it." Jason sets the plate down on the leather arm rest and stands. "Being under his wing makes you see in absolutes, brother. It narrows your mind and gives you less tools to accomplish the mission."

Dick is incredibly astonished at the way Jason is acting. He didn't mention his own victimhood, But Dick knows that it is also fueling him. "I trust you," He says, "Fill me in."


End file.
